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I glared down at his watery, lustful eyes, a cool smirk plastered across my lips – lips I was sure that he wished I’d put to another use. And yet, he was the one kneeling in front of me, breath coming in soft, shallow exhales. Poor boy.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.” I steeled my face, not wanting to betray my excitement at him leaving. No need to be too cruel.

“Yes, Mistress Sofia,” came his quiet and immediate reply. I had him trained beautifully. Only because I knew him so well, after all the nights we had spent together, did I detect the low swing of disappointment in his voice. He covered it well, as I had taught him. He knew he didn’t get to decide the particulars of our dates.

He held my gaze for a second too long, a tiny procrastination for his next step; had I not been anxious to be rid of him, I would have left him with a few more bruises to show for his disobedience. I watched his naked hips sweep around as he crawled toward my door, sinew stretching along the back of his legs. “Let me get the porch light for you, baby,” I cooed, as he crawled quickly onto the cold cement, now bathed in yellow light. I loved the look of fear that washed over him, no doubt he was terrified that someone would drive by and see him, kneeling naked on the front stoop, before he had had a chance to redress from the pile of clothes he left there earlier this evening.

I loved the look of fear, of helplessness, that I could elicit from him so easily. “Good night, John.” As I closed the door, I considered that someday he might stop calling me, finally tiring of his endless parade of pain and humiliation. Yet he still called. And I couldn’t say no to him, but not for the reason that he may have hoped.

I leaned against the closed door, now feeling my breath become a bit ragged. Any minute I’d hear it. I hiked up my short dress and slipped a finger between my pussy folds; it was slick. I fingered the barbell piercing my clit hood, sending a rush of pleasure through me. Shuddering, I traced the two lines of my transdermals up each side of my lips, up onto my pubic bone. The small metal balls were cool against my hot skin. I moaned softly as the memory of his tongue tracking across each piece of my jewelry washed back over me.

And there it was, the sound of the door opening upstairs, from the far side of the house. My pulse jumped into my throat, as I quickly moved to smooth out my dress. Angry-sounding footsteps down the stairs. Fear welled up inside my gut, as I felt a drop of wetness slide down the inside of my thigh. I willed myself to breathe, staring at the floor.

He filled my vision a half second before I felt his hand curl around my throat, pinning me to the door and forcing my face up. His dark eyes were furious, as I expected. My hands inadvertently flew to his, covering my neck. “Ethan… Sir, please…” I choked out.

I watched those burning eyes close calmly, and felt him press his warm lips softly to my cool, tingly ones. It unnerved me how he could straddle the juxtaposition of rage and calm. He maneuvered his fingers to squeeze the blood vessels below my ears, causing a veil of blackness to fethiye escort descend in front of my eyes. And then he dropped me.

I felt like I was swimming in a puddle on the floor, strangely comforted by the solidness of the door behind me. I could see the black leather of his boots and the rubber teeth of the soles through the tangles of my hair, and at that moment, all I wished to do in the world was worship those boots and the man that stood in them. Pangs of guilt stabbed at me. “I’m sorry… sorry, Sir…” I prattled.

He chuckled, wrapping his big fingers through my hair. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be, I’m afraid.” I yelped as he dragged me to my feet, the blood rushing back to my brain making me dizzy and a little nauseated. His grip grew tighter, eliciting another staccato shriek. I watched the floorboards begin to move past me as I was dragged, bent double, after him back up the stairs. I tried to keep up with him to relieve the pain on my scalp, but his long, purposeful strides didn’t leave much slack.

He whirled me around in our bedroom, blocking the doorway. I stumbled onto the side of the bed, still dizzy. He stood, watching me, with his fists clenching and unclenching steadily. “Stand up, slut.” I stood, still looking at the floor. I didn’t feel like I deserved to meet his gaze; in fact, of all the things that I knew would happen to me tonight, this was the part I dreaded the most. I felt his hand on my chin, too gentle for the moment. “Look at me,” he said stoically as he tipped my face upwards. I looked at his eyes, full of anger. God, he was so beautiful when he was angry. I would happily drown in that anger.

The first blow cut across my face faster than I could see it, sending me sprawling backwards. Immediately I felt my lip start to swell. I listened to my own ragged breathing as I crouched against the foot of the bed.

“Stand up.” His tone left no expectation of delay. “And look at me.”

I struggled momentarily to regain my footing and stood, once again, in front of him. I turned my eyes up toward him. The second stroke was a backhand, and I saw it coming. I sucked in my breath before he connected to the other side of my face. My head snapped back, twisting the rest of my body in turn. I caught the edge of the bed frame to keep myself from falling again, and slowly stood up again.

After the eighth slap, I was sobbing, huddled on the floor. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I cried into my arms. “I’m sorry… Sir, please. Please… I’m sorry…”

“Stand up. Now.”

I couldn’t.

“If I have to make you stand up, you know it’s going to be worse.” He sounded menacing. “Stand up so I can look at you.”

I tried to stand, and cried, because I just couldn’t. And I knew he was right – it would be worse if I didn’t obey. “Please… I’m so sorry, sir. Please…” I sobbed, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good.

I felt him pull my up by my hair once again, wringing a pained grimace from me. I felt the cool air blow across my bruised and swollen mouth as he held me in front of him. He still looked furious, but now alanya escort he had a slight smile. His smile was not comforting.

“As you wish,” he said darkly. “But you brought this on yourself.”

I crumpled to the floor as I released me. I opened my eyes only to see his boot speeding toward my solar plexus. I didn’t even have time to take a breath before a sickening thud caved into my abdomen, knocking the wind out of me. My eyes went wide with panic as I struggled to breathe. He crouched down next to me, close enough, I hoped, to see the real fear in my eyes. He smiled, recognizing my terror.

I closed my eyes, once again willing my lungs to work. After a minute, I felt short, pained breaths resume. I scanned around the room from my prone position, and I saw him neatly gathering his implements. He swatted the air with his thin metal paddle, almost gaily.

Shit. Fear shot through my limbs; I hated that paddle, and he knew it. He normally reserved it for special circumstances, not nights like this. Not for something as… routine as this.

He used my hair to pull me to my feet and spun me around with a practiced hand. I cowered in his shadow, stealing glances at the paddle still in his hand. He considered for a moment, his face folding back into his mask of fury. “Bend over. Show me what you’re whoring around.”

I turned around, hoping that my sluggish movements wouldn’t entice him to punish me further. I wrapped myself over the side of the bed, wiggling my tight dress up over my ass.

The first stroke of the thin, stinging metal caught me by surprise, eliciting a squeal. Oh, how I hated that paddle! His strikes came then in rapid succession, leaving me decimated; there was no time to think, or to breathe, or to do anything except absorb the waves of pain. I forgot my swollen lip and cheeks, as I ground them into the blanket unconsciously.

I didn’t remember starting to cry, but after he finally relented, my wailing was constant and the blanket was damp under my face. This was too much… too much for a night like this.

His cool hand stroked my burning ass cheek. “Why did you do it?” His voice was void of emotion.

“Sir..?”

I screamed as another two strokes pummeled my ass.

This time his hand was not gentle, nails digging into my battered flesh. “Don’t make me ask you again. Why. Did. You. Do it.” He punctuated the last five works with five additional strokes, making my knees falter. If I could have answered him, I would have, but I honestly had no idea was he wanted me to say. I hadn’t done anything wrong, at least nothing for which he wouldn’t usually punish me. Unless he thought…? No, I pushed the memory of my own slave eating my pussy earlier, out of my mind. That couldn’t be it.

“I’m sorry, Sir… but I…” I tried to explain my bewilderment, trailing off. A fresh round of sobbing heaved through me. I was lost.

I heard him sigh behind me and set the paddle down. “Sofie… you know that I could spend all night coming up with more ways to hurt you.” His voice sounded different now, softer, breaking manavgat escort the scene. He got down on the bed next to me, and looked at my face. “And you know I’d fancy that, because you are so beautiful when you suffer for me,” he said, smiling cheerlessly.

I looked at his face through my tear-stained eyes, this face that was so different from what was there seconds ago. A different sort of anxiety welled in my throat. Something was very wrong here.

He continued. “And… if you’d like to do that, we can.” He wiped the latest tear from my cheek. “But Sofie…” his voice was small and hurt. “Why did you do it? Why did you give it away to him? Your orgasm was mine.” He got louder, more forceful. “Mine. And after all these weeks… just like that.” He paused. “Did you think that I couldn’t hear you? Do you think your orgasms are quiet little things?”

I must have still looked as confused as I felt. “What?” I sniffled, still not comprehending. I hadn’t cum. As he had directed me. I mentally ran through the rules of our engagement, again – I could play with others, as long as I didn’t orgasm with them. Orgasms were his to give me; that was the rule. I hadn’t broken that rule… so why was he so incensed?

He let out an irritated sigh. “Fine.” His voice filled again with the promise of violence. “If that’s how you want to play it, then fine. But I want you to know that… Sophie, I’m just… disappointed in you.” The metal scrapped lightly against the bedside table as he picked it back up.

“Sir… I’m sorry… I don’t…”

He cut me short with another pair of blows.

I screamed as already-bruised skin was again assaulted. “I don’t know… I didn’t…” I tried to choke out between sobs. “I didn’t cum… I didn’t…”

Another stroke, another scream. “Then you’re a goddamn liar, too,” he spat.

“I didn’t… I swear I didn’t…”

Two more strokes, and I lost the ability to keep my position. I sunk to the floor, wailing in a heap.

He knelt down next to my shaking body. “Listen, Sofia. I’m going to give you one more chance to explain yourself, before I cuff you to this bed and beat you unconscious.” He sighed. “I mean… to cum… without permission… with someone else… with him, of all people…” He folded his arms. “And then to lie to me about it? It’s unacceptable. I’m… I can’t even comprehend it.”

My pain-addled brain struggled to work. “I didn’t… cum.”

“Then what did I hear?” he growled. He pulled me back up onto the bed by my hair, as I tried, unsuccessfully, to cower. “Sure sounded like an orgasm. A nice, long, juicy one,” he replied patronizingly.

“Oh…” I sighed, finally understanding what he was so angry about. I didn’t think he had been paying that much attention to what John and I were doing.

“Oh…” he repeated, mockingly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I… I faked it.” I sounded guilty, even to me.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “…What?”

“I faked it. I didn’t cum. I swear.”

“You’re lying.” He sounded disgusted. He hoisted me back over the edge of the bed and harshly kicked my feet apart. The paddle crashed across my upper thighs; I howled as new skin was tortured. Five more strokes hammered against me, suffocating any thought in a blur of pain.

“Please…” I wept. “I-I… swear… I didn’t…”

“Perhaps we need something less pleasant for you, then.” His voice was emotionless as I heard him set the paddle down.

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