He stood and paused, gazing down at her. “This will hurt, but at the end you’ll be happy.” He brushed a fleeting kiss across her lips. For someone bent on punishing her, the kiss was so sweet. She wished she could kiss him for hours. Oh God, I’m falling in love...
“Fifteen strokes,” he said against her cheek. He ran his fingers across the strap holding her waist, as if to check that it was still secure, and then opened her legs wide.
“You’ll have to keep these still,” he said in his gravelly Portuguese accent. “If you close them, I’ll add more.”
She made a strangled sound. “Can’t you tie them open or something?”
“No. This is how we learn control, yes?”
He straightened and she braced for the first blow. She didn’t think he’d injure her but she wasn’t sure how you got whipped on your pussy without some serious hurt going on.
“Wait,” he said. “I have something to help.”
He left and returned a moment later with a blindfold. That was supposed to help? Help what? Help break her mind? He smoothed it over her eyes so she was plunged into blackness. In some way it helped, because she didn’t have to watch him standing over her with the whip. But now she felt everything so much more intensely. She felt the hold of the restraints and the pressure of the plug in her ass, and the solid table at her back.
“Open your legs wider,” he chided. “Open for what you deserve.”
Oh my God... The first stroke flicked against the inside of her left thigh, over her labia. “One.”
The sting of it shocked her. She pulled at the cuffs, snapping her legs shut.
“Now you added one,” he said. “Is like starting all over. Fifteen strokes. Open your legs.”
“I can’t. It hurts too much.”
“I know it hurts. Open your legs.”
She could use a safeword, but she didn’t want to. With a moan she let her legs fall open, and waited in darkness. The next flick landed on the inside of her other thigh. “Two.”
She cried out but she kept her legs open. His breathy “good girl” felt like a caress.
“Three.” Holy motherfucking Christ. The third stroke landed right on her clit. She jumped but stayed silent, gritting her teeth. He wasn’t hitting her too hard, but oh, she was so sensitive there. “Four.” Another on her clit. She made a begging sound, then yelped as he hit her two more times in succession, right on the tender folds of her pussy lips. Her skin pulsed and her pelvis felt heavy and achy, like she might come again if he caught it with the whip just the right way.
Then the next stroke fell, and she cried out. “Seven.”
That one was hard. Eight was harder and nine had her legs snapping shut again. He slapped her outer thigh. “Now we do nine again. You’re making things worse for yourself.”
“Please...”
“Open your legs,” he said in a dire voice. She wished she could see his face, see the intensity and control she heard in his voice. With a sigh, she opened her thighs against the table.
She struggled at nine, tensing her legs to keep them open as the whip landed on her clit in a spark of fire. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t take all fifteen of these. Please, I can’t.”
“Are you ready to bargain?”
His quiet words stilled her. Bargain with what? Her virgin asshole... She knew it even before she felt his fingers on the plug. He pressed the flange against her body, wiggling it. “One more stroke, and then you open your asshole for me. You let me fuck your asshole until you come.”
Not until he came. Until she came. A shudder wracked her body. “I’m scared.”
“I know you’re scared,” he said calmly. “That’s why we’re bargaining. Pain or pleasure. You decide.”
He brought the whip down on the table in a loud snap so she jumped. “Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut behind the blindfold. “Okay. I’ll let you.”
“You’ll let me have your virgin asshole. Say it.”
“I’ll let you have my virgin asshole,” she said, her voice wavering on the last two words.
“Spread your legs then. One last whip on your clit.”
His voice was sharp and businesslike, impossible to contradict. He was so good at this. She opened her legs and arched her pelvis so he could get in a good parting shot. She could feel the plug in her ass, soon to be replaced with something altogether larger. In the midst of that thought, the whip flicked against her swollen button. If anything, her legs spread wider for him as she panted through the stinging aftermath. Until you come. Oh God, she wanted to come so badly.
He stroked her legs, tapped her pussy a couple times with his fingers, then tugged at the flange of the anal toy until he could ease it out. The pain sharpened as the thickest part slid past the ring of her sphincter.
“You know,” he said, “this toy lets your ass close around the narrow part. My cock won’t do that. Just something to think about.” She flinched as he pressed a finger inside. She felt cool liquid, more lube, and then she heard the sound of a condom wrapper. Is okay to be scared...
She felt his warmth above her. His lips lowered over hers for a kiss. Then he was gone and his hands were pressing open her thighs, tugging her closer to the edge of the table. When he touched the head of his cock to her hole she tightened up.
“No,” he said. “I won’t hurt you. Not too much.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding and willed herself to be brave, to accept this intimate act.
“Oh, yes, baby,” he sighed. She felt the head of his cock ease in and stretch her in an intensifying burn. “So tight. You’re so tight. Is okay, hold on. Soon, it will feel better.”
Breathe in, breathe out. He held her legs, massaging the backs of her thighs. “Let me in, baby. I want to be inside you.” With every word, he pressed deeper, prying her open, taking up residence where she’d never thought he could fit. She felt an unbearable fullness, but it was thrilling, not bad. The lubricant eased his passage, as he worked himself forward in small movements. “Okay?” he asked.
She squeezed on his girth, impaled by him in her dark world. “Yes, it’s okay.”
He moved deeper, not violently or roughly. This act didn’t need any violence to communicate power—the violence was the very act of being there, demanding entrance into that tight, cramped space. Now that he was there, she understood she was his. His to use, his to hurt, his to please as it pleased him. He palmed her clit, massaging it as he drove in and out.
“How does it feel?” he asked. “It hurts?”
“A little,” she whimpered.
“You’re scared?”
Yes, she was so scared, but turned on too. Her breath felt heavy, caught up in her chest. Her whole body felt tight and vulnerable, but he was in control now and all she could do was trust. After a while, as he slowly fucked her, she felt her tightness open, felt her limbs relax. His cock wasn’t hurting her anymore, only possessing her deep inside. The lube made it slick, so it wasn’t friction, just intrusion. He pressed back on her thighs, opening her even wider.
“Yes, baby, that’s good,” he said, encouraging her as she arched her hips for more. “I want to be all the way inside you.”
Her toes curled as he pressed deeper, until his pelvis butted up against her ass. She felt completely stretched, completely full. “Oh God. Oh God!”
He shushed her cries, gripping one hip as he took her ass with measured strokes. The other finger explored her pussy, dipping inside before traveling up to graze her clit again. Her clit and labia were still smarting from the whip, so each touch was more than a caress. It was a memory of his punishment, and her submission to his will.
“You want to come?” he asked. “This time you’re allowed to. But I want it to be good.”
Oh God, yes. She might have said it out loud or she might have just breathed it out. Yes, yes, yes… His voice sounded low and gruff, and wonderfully raunchy. She wished she could see him standing over her, driving into her, but she also loved bei
ng swept away on sensation, on the pure hedonism of taking it up the ass. All this time she’d been afraid of anal sex for a myriad of reasons. Now, she was pretty sure it was her new favorite thing.
As she pondered this reversal of opinion, he squeezed her breasts and pinched each nipple. She could feel them harden between his fingertips. She heard the clink of metal and thought, oh, no, he wouldn’t. But he did. With a searing blast of pain, the clamps resumed their torture, one at each nipple, falling down against her breasts. Her burgeoning orgasm fled.
“Ow,” she said. “Oh, God…why?”
“Poor baby,” he said, and she knew he was smiling. “Maybe you can’t come now?”
He touched her clit, just one fleeting stroke, and she shuddered, nearly incapacitated by the combination of pleasure and pain. He drove deep while he fondled her, taking everything he wanted, doing whatever he wanted. She drew her legs wide, thinking, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours. He was enjoying this, hurting her, defiling her, and for her part, she would have submitted to this treatment for hours if he asked it. Her nerve endings were barreling toward orgasm, but she held back, wanting to enjoy the blending of erotic sensations just a moment more…
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she gasped, clenching her ass. “I’m going to come soon. I can’t stop it.”
“Come on,” he said. “I want it.”
The clamps jerked on her nipples. Her arms strained against the cuffs and the leather strap holding her down, and then her body fell into a climax ten times stronger than the previous one. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but ride out the waves that engulfed her.
“God, yes.” Rubio groaned as she pulsed around his thrusting cock. He said more things, low, in Portuguese, as he surged deep inside her, as deep as he could go. Then he tensed and held, jerking through a series of tremors. At last, he came to rest.
“Oh baby,” he whispered, falling down over her. “You’re such a good girl. But…I think now…no more virgin asshole.”
She laughed weakly. “No. No more virgin asshole, for sure.”
He stroked her shoulder, licked her jaw and her neck while her ass squeezed his cock in intermittent aftershocks. “That was crazy,” he said after a while. “Just crazy.”
She shifted in her bonds. She needed to hold him and touch him, and be close to the man who’d done this intimate, amazing act to her. “Ruby, let me go. Let me see you. I want to see you.”
He started to work at her restraints, releasing the clamps and cuffs, and undoing the strap at her waist. When she reached out, he caught her and dragged her against his chest. She flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him. The blindfold came off last, and she blinked in the dim dungeon to find him watching her with a combination of amusement and dread.
“You okay?” he asked. “You survived?”
Had she survived? This time, perhaps, but what about next time? It seemed he could make her do just about anything, which was a dangerous talent to have. What would the next “ten minute” session bring? What if he stretched it to an hour? A day? A week? Her entire life? She couldn’t bear to think about it.
She couldn’t bear to think about anything beyond this moment, beyond his arms around her, cradling her, and the look in his eyes that said wow and oh, man and good girl, all at the same time.
“I think I mostly survived it,” she said. “This time.”
His lips spread in a slow smile, and she knew he was already making plans for next time. Which was completely, perfectly fine with her.
Chapter Fourteen: Is Good
Petra jerked awake to a muttered merda and a hand clamped around her wrist. “Crazy girl,” Rubio grunted. “Watch your port de bras.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“You’re dancing in your sleep.” He loosened his grip on her wrist and slid a hand up her arm. His eyes shone in the dim morning light. “Are you finished, or you’re going to kick me again?”
“I didn’t kick you.”
“You kicked me. You whack me on the side of my head all the time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, even though he wasn’t really angry.
He brushed her hair back with a sleepy smile. “It’s okay. Is funny but painful. Maybe I’ll start tying you at night, huh? Tie you to the branches of the bed?”
She snuggled into his embrace, feeling all melty at the erotic threat. “But then you could do whatever you wanted to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”
“Mmm.” He kissed the side of her neck, then ran his tongue up to the underside of her chin. His arms were iron bands around her, firm and secure. “I think I like the sound of that,” he said.
And I think I love you, she thought. I’m really afraid I do.
“I’m sorry I kicked you,” she said aloud. “Maybe I can make it better.” She slid under the sheets to caress his muscular legs. She kissed his bronze skin, licking over the ticklish texture of his leg hairs. “Is that helping?”
“Ah. Yes. Is better. But somewhere else is hurting.” With a mischievous grin he pumped his rigid cock. “Could use some kisses to make it all better.”
She grinned. “Just kisses?”
With a grunt, he manipulated her until her face was in his crotch and her ass was stuck in the air. “Ah, that’s right,” he said, stroking fingertips down her thigh. “Arch your back. Make it pretty for me.”
Petra licked her lips, feeling loose and sensual at his softly spoken words. She kissed the tip of his cock, reveling in his halting intake of breath.
“Is good?” she teased, looking up at him.
He gave her ass a lazy slap. “Yes, is good.” He reached lower to tangle his fingers through her hair and push her lips down onto his length. “Get busy. Suck me, you hungry little slut.”
There was a time when “you hungry little slut” would have infuriated her. When she would have punched someone in the face over it. Now, it excited her. It made her feel sexy and submissive. His fingers tightened, gripping the back of her neck.
“Deeper,” he said. “Open that mouth.”
She strained to draw him farther into her throat. They’d done some experimenting with deep throating but she wasn’t great at it yet. She always gagged like crazy, which Rubio openly enjoyed. At least they didn’t have to use condoms anymore, except for vaginal sex, as a backup method.
“Yes, good girl,” he said when she coughed and sputtered. “I love when you choke on it.”
The “love” was guttural, vicious and forceful. She’d come to live for these Rubio endearments. I love when you choke on it. I want to hurt you. I love how you cry when I hurt you.
You’re so beautiful when you come.
His fingers trailed over her ass cheeks, then down to probe between her legs. “Open,” he said. “Let me look at your pussy.”
The old Petra never, ever would have obeyed such an order. The new Petra squirmed sideways to comply. In the last few weeks he’d explored every inch of her, inside and out. Not just explored it. Taken possession of it. His fingers toyed through the moisture between her legs as she licked around his erection. Every so often he’d flick her clit just to make her buck.
“You know,” he said in a low voice, “under my bed at home, I keep a pretty Plexiglas cane. It hurts so much. Maybe someday I’ll use it to mark you right here.”
He pressed his palm against her pussy and she moaned. A pretty Plexiglas cane sounded agonizing, especially between her legs. He slapped her and then drove two fingers inside her wet sheath, forcing her to arch her ass up.
His cock was so solid, so velvety and thick. She sucked the tip like a lollipop and then opened her throat for him to slide deep. She gagged a moment later, hacked out a cough and pulled back for air. With a chuckle, he fisted his balls and nudged her head down to lick them. “Into your mouth,” he prompted. “Suck them nice.”
She burrowed her face between his legs, breathing in his musky male scent. As she tongued and teased him, his laptop chirped on the ta
ble across the room. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Bad timing.”
A moment later, a ring-notification sounded. He sighed. “Is my mother calling. I told her to call today.” He squeezed Petra’s shoulder, drawing her away from her task. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll finish this very soon.”
He slid off the bed and loped over to the table. He slid a finger over his touchpad. “Mãe, um momento.” He walked back to Petra with an apologetic look. “I haven’t been calling home,” he said, pulling on a pair of shorts. “Too busy with other things.”
“Like dancing?” Petra asked, deadpan.
He tugged a black tee over his head. “Dancing and fucking you,” he said softly, in his throaty lilt.
His voice alone could take her halfway to orgasm. Something of her thoughts must have shown in her face because he said, “Don’t look at me like that. Not right before I talk to my mother.” He kissed her forehead, then went back over to his laptop. It was angled away from the bed, toward the window, so it was safe for Petra to get up and get dressed. She pulled faces at Rubio across the room, doing an impromptu bump-and-grind. He wagged a finger at her, talking all the while to his mother in rapid-fire syllables she couldn’t understand.
She shouldn’t hover around and distract him. She didn’t know how much his mother knew about his personal life, or whether she knew about her. Did she know they slept together every night? She probably knew they danced together. Petra went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, listening to Rubio chatter in Portuguese. It sounded impossibly sexy, his native tongue. He went from animated to quiet and back to animated, sometimes asking his mom questions. She didn’t know the words but she could sense his fondness for his mother, and his concern.
He was a good son. She’d read something once in some women’s magazine, about how to tell a good man from a bad one. One of the indicators was how well a man treated his mother. She knew his mother had had a hard life and that he tried to take care of her now. She knew that he sent her money so his mother never had to go without, and he’d bought her a new house and a new life. She deserves it, he told her once. She went through so much.
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