by CJ Roberts
“Now. Tell me you don’t hate me.”
“No.”
His naked chest pressed against me; the heat of it sent shivers through my body. He kissed my neck while running his hand down my thigh. His breath drew in deeply, then out in a whisper across my skin. His erection warmed me through his pants. He pushed it against me, as if he could somehow come into me. I struggled with my wrist-straps, trying to free my hands. He slowed, calmingly caressing me in a gentle, loving way. He rocked back and forth on top of me, kissing me, rubbing me, breathing on my skin.
Something in my body changed, but I didn’t want it to. I got hot, very hot. My breathing got faster, and all I could do was smell him, all over me, breathing him in, his scent inside me. He kissed down my chest, holding my knees apart.
“Stop…Stop.” The first objection was real, the second one…I wasn’t sure.
His mouth latched onto my nipple through the fabric of his shirt, somehow more excruciating because he couldn’t quite get to me. He sucked harder, making my nipple hard, wet and hot. I half sighed and groaned, unable to resist tilting my head back against the carpet, eyes closed, falling into sensations I’d never felt before.
“You don’t hate me at all, I think you like me just fine.” I was crying, but it wasn’t for the right reasons. “I think I know something else you might like.” His hands and his mouth trailed down my body and though I knew I should, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything against it. He was going to do what he wanted whether I protested or not. Would it be so horrible if I did nothing? Could I be held to blame?
My eyes shot open and I sat up as soon as his hot mouth covered my sex. He looked up and grabbed the collar around my neck, kissing me with fury before pushing me back down.
Shocked, I twisted from side to side, crying and grunting. I tasted myself on my lips; I was on his lips. He moaned against me as he slid his tongue up and down my secret flesh, drawing moans and screams from my chest. I squeezed my legs as hard as I could, his fingers digging into the inside of my thighs. I felt nothing but his mouth on me. My body became an extension of that small, pink mouth between my legs. No conscience, no shame, it wanted what it wanted and it didn’t care who did its bidding. My own body had betrayed me. My muscles tensed, all sensations running through my body concentrated to that one spot Caleb licked. My head swam and in one blinding moment it seemed that my body exploded. I arched my back, biting into my lip, writhing against his face until the harsh spasm coursed through me and into him. I lay on the floor panting, moaning softly to myself as a gentle tingle spread throughout my body. He rested his body on top of mine. He kissed my neck.
“I told you you’d like it,” he whispered.
I had no words for that. I turned my head and looked at him through half-mast lids.
“You shouldn’t bite your lip so hard, next time just let it out,” he said, wiping my lip with his thumb. His lips were wet, either with sweat or me, please let it be sweat. He smiled and kissed my mouth…it was me. Humiliation.
“I do hate you,” I said softly, looking up at the ceiling, detached, satiated and emptied of something. He pushed the hair off of my face and kissed me again.
His fingers pressed against my wet flesh and I couldn’t help but whimper as my body pulsed harshly. “But your pussy doesn’t…and that’s the important thing.” He smiled, and I closed my eyes, looking away. “As a matter of fact, that’s what I’ll call you…Kitten.”
My heart suddenly hurt. I have a name. Olivia. Livvie. It occurred to me he’d never asked for my name, not even that day on the street and it struck me also that it meant he had never seen me as a person – not once. My throat was thick with pain. Was there anyone on the planet who cared about who I was? I thought about Nicole, my best friend. She cared. She’d never give up hope of finding me.
When my eyes finally refocused, Caleb was staring at me with the strangest expression on his face. He was smiling still, not brightly, just curiously, as if he somehow knew I had just been a hundred miles away. We stared at each other for a few seconds, though I couldn’t say what either of us was thinking just then. We just couldn’t look away. My chest shook with a sob I wouldn’t let loose.
Spell broken, he slowly untangled himself from me then gripped my arm to haul me up. My head swam and my legs shook. I was about to jerk my arm from his steadying hand when I suddenly felt a rush of wet heat run onto my thighs. Instinctively I pressed my legs together and looked down, at once mortified to discover a bead of my wetness trying to run down my thigh.
Caleb looked too and I couldn’t keep the burn of embarrassment or fresh tears from my face.
Caleb let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan before he reached down to trace his fingertips along the source. He held up his fingers, rubbing the obvious moisture along the pads of his fingers with his thumb. To my absolute horror, he licked two of his fingers, closing his eyes, fucking savoring my humiliation. I sobbed. Out loud this time.
“What’s wrong Kitten?” he pressed toward me, “Is there something wrong with enjoying the pleasure I give you?” He watched me with obvious satisfaction, even as my tears rolled down my cheeks before falling to the floor. “Answer me Kitten.” He insisted, some of the headiness leaving his voice. I couldn’t give him a response.
Purposefully, he took hold of both my bound arms and led me over to the bed. He sat first, frightening me by pulling me onto his lap. I let out a surprised yelp, but quickly went silent.
What fresh hell did he have planned?
“Why are you crying Kitten?” he pried, “Have I hurt you today?” he gently kissed my shoulder.
“Yes,” I answered in a sob. Today the pain was emotional, the worst kind. He drew back from my shoulder with a surprised expression, but quickly donned his mask of indifference. His lips once again found their way to my shoulder, this time trailing up toward the nape of my neck.
I tensed, seeking some way to get away from his caresses but knowing there was none.
“Answer me properly please,” he murmured, “Have I fucked you?” I gasped, frozen with overwhelming fear.
“No Master,” I said in a voice scarcely above a whisper. He wrapped his left arm around me tightly, pulling me closer to his chest, forcing my head onto his shoulder. Excluding my fear, humiliation and our semi-nudity, this had been exactly what I had wanted not an hour before. I had wanted him to hold me. Careful what you wish for….
“Did you come?” he whispered in the same soft voice. I shut my eyes and struggled not to shudder in my silent sobbing. “It’s okay Kitten; you can tell me the truth. Go on, say ‘thank you Master for letting me come’.” With his right hand he forced my legs open over his thighs, fighting me as I vainly tried to close them. I struggled with tears as my mind reeled. “You’re making me angry Kitten; answer the question.”
I snapped. “My name isn’t Kitten!” I yelled, finally succumbing to hysteria.
Almost immediately, Caleb bent me over his left knee, holding my legs down with his right and delivered a swift torrent of blows that had me screaming. As my mind scattered in every direction, searching for my wits, the blows continued to fall on my naked bottom.
“Please stop,” I begged. “Please stop, I’m so sorry. I swear to God I’m sorry.” Mercy seemed to be the last thing Caleb had on his mind. He buckled down on my squirming body and placed his weight on my shoulders so that he could spank me in earnest while I struggled in frantic terror. “Please…please Master,” I cried endlessly in long guttural moans. I wanted so badly to rub my backside, but he held my straps.
“Is it the pain that makes it easier for you Kitten? Does your pride require that you be beaten into obedience?” His voice was low, raw – aroused. Beneath my belly his erection throbbed. Or was it only my heart? He spanked me once more, demanding an answer I refused to give. He spanked me again and I suddenly realized that after each spank, he rubbed away the sting. I wondered why, even as more slaps landed.
My thoughts were beg
inning to fracture as I searched for a way to escape what was happening to me. Just give him what he wants. He’ll stop. What had I done to deserve this? “Act like a whore and get treated like one…” Always those words, always haunting me and punishing me. It was suddenly a comfort to know that once Caleb was done punishing me he would forgive me too. He wouldn’t hold on to imaginary transgressions. He would forgive me. I wanted to be forgiven.
Something interesting happened then. A shiver ran down my body and my mind was suddenly blank. I thought of nothing. Literally nothing. No pain, or shame, or longing, or sadness. There was only the sound of Caleb’s palm landing across my bottom, my cries, his controlled breathing. His blows were no longer painful; my backside was numb, warm. I slowly went limp in his lap. It was strange, but I felt…at peace.
Caleb let up on me then, still bracing me firmly though I could feel his body relax against me. The moment was quiet, only our breathing. Mine harsh and fast, his deep and slow. He stroked my back silently, rubbing me as one would a horse, but I didn’t mind. I needed it, craved it. I relaxed further. After several minutes, he gently broke the silence, “What is your name?”
“Kitten,” I replied from some place outside myself. Gently, he rubbed my sore and swollen buttocks. My breathing slowed, my body hummed.
“It’s so much easier when you give in Kitten,” he said softly, “so much easier.” He was answered only by a shallow whimper. Taking advantage of my lassitude, he slowly hoisted me upright into his lap. Tangled hair stuck to my face, neck and back. Caleb pushed it back.
Normal, rational thought still hadn’t returned. I was grateful. Normal, rational thought dictated that I be frightened, angry or some variation thereof. It was nice to be devoid of such things. Caleb’s eyes wandered to my lips, then back up to meet my far off stare. He took a small key out of his pocket and undid the lock that held my arms behind my back. I gently placed them in my lap, awareness beginning to creep back in. I didn’t like it.
“Kiss me,” he said. “And before you say no…” I cut him off by touching my salty lips to his soft, supple mouth. He pulled back slightly at my impulsive boldness. But then I heard him sigh and he leaned back in. I inhaled deeply, ignoring the press of all manner of emotion trying to infiltrate my numbness.
I struggled to make the kiss seem natural, fighting the impulse to turn my face away. His demeanor gentled. He was never gentle when he kissed me. It seemed awkward, but I felt something within him changing. He moaned ever so slightly, a sound I hadn’t really heard from him before. He reached for my breast, but then withdrew his fingers. Again, restraining himself.
Without warning, I felt the tiniest surge of something similar to control. I’d been powerless in every encounter with him, but in this moment I knew what he wanted. He wanted me. Not just my body, but me. And although, he ruled me for the moment, while he dictated my future, in this one kiss…I owned him. Abruptly, he pushed me away.
“Good girl,” he said softly, but the waver in his voice betrayed a hint of confusion. He stood up, looking down to find me staring directly at him. He smiled and grabbed a handful of my hair.
“You shouldn’t look at me unless I tell you to Kitten, you’ll only do yourself harm.”
The moment was over. He was in control again, but angry. At having lost himself, even for a fraction of a second? I couldn’t help but smile and didn’t hide it fast enough. With a sneer, he led me by my hair into the bathroom and bathed me quickly in silence.
After he toweled me down and brushed my hair, he again joined my wrists together, this time in front. “Raise your arms,” he said sternly. The sudden power in his voice made me jump. He placed his hands around my waist and hoisted my bound wrists over the bedpost. I was slightly distressed in this position, my body stretched tightly on tiptoe. I shivered in my nervousness, waiting for another savage beating to commence. My anxiety rose to a pinnacle as he placed a thick leather blindfold over my eyes.
“Please no Master, please. It hurts too much.” He ran his hands over my breasts, squeezing my nipples until they became hard little stones between his fingers. I winced and shifted my weight trying to get free.
“I like to hurt you Kitten…it’s what gets me off.”
I froze, said nothing, waiting for the worst. “I’m not going to gag you, but if you don’t keep quiet, I’ll put a gag in your mouth so big, you’ll forget any pain before it.” I bit my bottom lip. I was still standing there, mind blank, long after he’d left the room.
SEVEN
If I concentrated, I could stay on my tiptoes, which lessened the unbearable strain from my shoulders and back. I was my pain and nothing else. No thoughts, no emotions, only a body screaming to be released. My calves twitched with pain and a cramp formed. I pushed all my weight toward the floor, to alleviate the fire in my legs. I twisted this way and that, hoping to find a position that hurt a little less than the one before it. The minutes dragged into endless hours. Pain saturated every muscle in my tautly stretched body. I began to whimper softly, which merely grew louder with every breath. Panic in, panic out. I had been afraid of being beaten.
Now I’d let him beat me if only he’d let me go.
A horrifying thought broke through to me. What if he isn’t even here? What if he doesn’t come back for a long time? How could I stand this kind of torture for another hour, let alone a full night? If it was even nighttime.
I tried to stop being the pain, tried to let my mind conquer my body. I honed in on the sound of my leather bound wrists creaking against the post of the bed. My breathing. The way my body heat had warmed the wrought iron of the bed at my back. I tried to find the peace just beyond the pain, beyond my suffering. Just as I had when he’d spanked me – but the trick didn’t work for me this time.
Every breath I took seemed to make my bonds tighter. I cried. Quietly at first, then in loud mewling groans. My stomach turned and I suddenly understood why he didn’t gag me…I was going to vomit. I struggled to keep breathing, and thinking soothing thoughts that managed to keep the stomach cramps at bay. The story of my life - keeping the inevitable at bay.
Droplets of sweat ran down the well of my breasts and gathered in my belly button. It agitated me, this feeling of sticky sweat all over. My hair clung to my face, back and sides. It was driving me toward delirium. I shook violently with frustration, every muscle turning to molten pain. Then I heard the last thing I expected.
For a moment, I shook it off as a figment of my imagination. I couldn’t remember how often in the past I had woken in the dark thinking I’d heard something. I’m imagining things. I stood silently and focused intently on the sounds around me. Not being able to see sharpened my hearing, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source of the noise. It was everywhere. I kept my breath shallow unwilling to let the sound of my own breath distract from my search. I heard it again.
Definitely a woman. Crying? No, something else. There were screams, yes, some of them reminiscent of pain, but they rode on the wave of something much more primal sounding. Sweat beaded on my overheated skin only to grow fat and race across the contours of my body. I strained to hear, but strove not to feel. I listened harder and caught the distinctly loud thud of something hitting what could only be a wall or some other hard, stationary object repeatedly.
I stood still, taking rapid breaths while trying to take in all that surrounded me.
Someone was having sex.
Was that…Caleb? With her, that woman? Even as I asked myself, I knew the answer. Of course. Caleb was having sex.
Mother. Fucker. Heat bloomed across my body. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream. But emotion had returned. He had tied me – naked – to a bedpost. To suffer. And he was somewhere in the house fucking some whore’s brains out. He wasn’t thinking of me. Of the pain I was in because of him. He simply did. Not. Care. Hot tears streamed down my face.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was being kind to her. Was his face buried between her legs as he had done to me? The th
ought did unusual things to me. I had never had an orgasm before.
Never. But he had forced it out of me. What did that mean? I panicked, frantic and trying with all my remaining strength to pull myself loose…nothing.
The other woman’s cries had become louder and more guttural. In fact, as I listened – hard, her sounds alternated between soft, low purrs and loud, piercing cries. Soft, then loud, without ceasing. I forgot about the pain for a moment, transfixed by the woman’s sounds. The harder I listened, the more I seemed able to discern. She seemed to be enjoying it. Suddenly, an undercurrent of deeper, heavier moans prevailed.
I remembered those moans from earlier as he lapped at me with his tongue. Heat burst throughout my body at the memory – more sweat, more dizziness, more whimpers. Shame, pleasure and I hadn’t stopped thinking about it. I closed my eyes. Why couldn’t I just fucking black out? His sounds became a little different, angrier and more labored, a runner trying to finish a race. I grit my teeth and leaned forward for reasons unbeknownst to me. My shoulders burned. My struggling hadn’t helped.
The woman screamed, hoarse, rasping screams that seemed to come from deep in her throat.
She was yelling something. I wondered if it might be his name. The thought thoroughly irritated me for some reason. Here I was, here, in this place, tied to a fucking bedpost like a thing while some other woman screamed his name. No doubt during intense orgasms. Meanwhile, I had to call him Master. I wasn’t allowed to say his name. Not even when I came, not that I would anyway, that wasn’t the point.