by Dahlia Kent
He came around the front and squatted, strapping my hands to the rests on either side of me.
“Too tight?” he asked, meeting my gaze.
His question threw me for a second. He was concerned about my welfare?
“No,” I said quietly.
He rose and moved toward the wall hanger of dangling horrors. He reached for the short mop-like thing and returned to me.
“This is a flogger,” he said, showing it to me with both hands. “It’s what I’m going to use to punish you, Jenna.” He walked around me, his shoes tapping softly on the floor. He dragged the feathered end of the flogger along my back as he passed, and I quivered from the gentle touch, knowing it was a precursor to something less pleasant. “I want you to count out loud. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, who?”
“Yes, Captain Foster,” I said quietly, trembling, my eyes downcast to the grey floor.
“That’s not the right answer.”
A short crack echoed in the room. Abrupt pain lanced hot and intense all over my bottom where the strips of the flogger hit. Lifting my head sharply, I cried out in surprise and wiggled in panic. However, the straps on my arms and legs kept me in place, forcing me to stay still and endure the sting.
He caressed the spot where he hit, adding to the heat already blooming on my skin.
“Yes, who?” he repeated.
“Yes… yes, sir.”
“Why are you here, Jenna?”
“To be punished, sir.”
“Why?*
“Because… because I did something wrong, sir.”
“You’re here to make up for that wrong. You’re here to become a good girl again.” He paused, a smile in his voice. “A good woman by the time I’m done with you tonight.”
And then… slap!
I whimpered, jerking forward as if to escape the pain. But it raced across my flesh, a pulsing just under my skin.
Once again, Cole caressed the spot he hit.
“How much?” he demanded in a husky voice. “Say it.”
“One, sir.”
The flogger came down again, hot and stinging as ever.
“Two, sir,” I gasped out.
The third and fourth lashes stung just as much, but by the fifth and sixth, the pain was less fierce. By the eighth lash, something strange happened to my body. My nipples grew tight against the leather cushion under my chest. Between my legs got warmer and wetter, too. By the twelfth lash, I was no longer trying to get away from the lashes. I lifted my hips as far as they could go up toward the flogger as arousal burned a fire between my legs.
My face was wet with tears but between my legs was even wetter. Moisture coated the insides of my thighs and immense shame cloaked me. How could I have gotten turned on by this? This was supposed to hurt. This is supposed to be my punishment.
“Twenty, sir,” I breathed out when Cole brought down the flogger yet again.
He was breathing hard too and I heard the whistles through his nostrils. There was a soft thump, and then both of his big hands were on my bottom, smoothing over the areas he’d just ravaged with the flogger. His touch was worse than the beatings. My body ached in a way I’d never felt before.
“You need to thank me,” he growled as he dug his fingers into my flesh. It hurt. The flesh was still tender from the flogging. “You need to thank me for taking the time and energy to teach you a valuable lesson about the consequences of wrongdoing.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“But it seems you gained more than just a lesson.” His hands trailed down my thigh but one swept up to cup between my legs. I tried not to moan, to not give away that I liked him touching me or the way he parted my slit with his fingers. “Did you enjoy me flogging you, Jenna?”
I couldn’t answer. I dared not answer. I didn’t want the truth out loud and in the open. We had an audience to what was happening. They’d think I was a slut.
“Please. Please don’t make me say it,” I begged.
Cole’s fingers found my nub, already tight and swollen, and circled it. I’d touched myself before but it had never felt like this. His touch sent sweet waves of pleasure through me, swiftly breaking down my resolve to not react. The pit of my stomach tightened as my arousal climbed higher. I moaned and pressed my hips down eagerly, rocking back and forth as much as the straps on my arms and legs would allow.
“Answer the question,” he demanded, rubbing me faster, speeding me along to the finish. I didn’t respond. I was too busy moaning, reaching for my orgasm. And then Cole abruptly pulled his hand away.
A frustrated whimper escaped me. My blood was on fire, a desperate sense of emptiness that needed to be filled pulsing between my legs. I squirmed, seeking his touch, and I realized he wasn’t going to give me the release I needed unless I did his bidding.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I liked it when you flogged me, sir.”
He stalked around to the front and stood before me. Then he knelt so his face was level with mine.
“I just want you to know that the view from behind is glorious,” he said softly. He cupped my face with one hand, his thumb idly smoothing my cheek. “Your pretty little pussy is spread wide open. So wet, it’s like it’s crying for me to fuck it.”
From afar, we might have looked like lovers enjoying an intimate conversation. But I was naked and strapped down and vulnerable to this monster who revelled in my humiliation.
“I want to fuck you,” he said, his voice gravelly and harsh. His features didn’t change, but he seemed terrifying. He slipped his hand from my face to tangle his fingers in my hair, tugging painfully. “I need to fuck you. And I don’t like that I need it. I don’t like that you’re making me lose control.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Too many emotions roiled inside me. I was afraid of him. Aroused by him. Confused by his confession.
He released my hair. To my surprise, he unstrapped my hands. Then he stood as close as the upraised cushion would allow.
“Sit up and undress me. It’s only fair you return the favour.”
Slowly, stiffly, I raised upright onto my knees. Residual tenderness lingered on my bottom. I met his gaze briefly before I reached up to undo the buttons of his shirt. His stare burned me, making my fingers clumsy as I pulled each button free.
Undressing a man. Yet another first for me. Seemed Cole was bent on stealing all my firsts tonight.
I tugged his shirt free from his pants and undid the remaining buttons. I spread his shirt away, revealing a solid wall of defined flesh. God. Why was something so wicked encased in such a tantalizing package? I tried not to stare as I slipped his shirt down his arms and let it drift to the floor.
Then I looked at his belt. Not so much the belt, but the outline of the large bulge beneath it.
“You can touch it if you want to, Jenna,” he said, the suddenness of his voice startling me.
I looked away from his smirk and undid his belt. My hands shook more than ever from a combination of fear and excitement. After I unzipped his pants, Cole stepped back and took over. He removed his shoes and socks, then pushed his pants and underwear down, stepping free and completely naked.
My gazed honed in on the thick, rigid flesh jutting out between his legs. He fisted himself and stroked it. I started to tremble all over again. The visceral hunger on his face reminded me of his intentions. This was it. I’d always envisioned this moment as one where I gave myself to a man of my own choosing. But Cole entered my life and he took me for himself. Just like he was about to take my body.
He moved behind me again, standing between my spread legs. Since I was upright, his broad chest pressed against my back. His cock, hard and hot, branded my skin. He trailed his hands up my thighs, over my hips, and across my stomach. My breathing came faster, my heart thudding harder by the time he cupped my breasts. I whimpered when he pinched my nipples.
Pushing my hair to the side, his warm lips skimmed my neck. I shivered. I was in turmoil.
This shouldn’t feel as good as it did. He shouldn’t make me hate him one moment, then crave him the next.
Cole slipped his hand down between my legs. Biting down on my neck, he pinched my nipple hard as he shoved his fingers up into me. Arching my back against him, I cried out from the mix of pain and pleasure.
“Cole…”
Soft little moans escaped me as Cole thrust his fingers inside my soaked depths. He released my skin from between his teeth and lapped away the sting there.
“They’re watching you, Jenna,” Cole said against my ear. “They’re all watching you receive your punishment. They’re all watching you enjoy my fingers buried inside you. I think you like being watched.”
“I don’t,” I breathed out.
“You’re a dirty little liar,” he growled. “You like it but you’re just too ashamed to admit it.”
His fingers were coated in my wetness when he slid them from me to rub my clit in quick firm strokes. My legs quivered, I rocked and squirmed against his digits. Unbidden, I imagined the faces of the people who watched me, who judged me, who were here to get their rocks off by watching a helpless, virginal girl being taken advantage of in the crudest way possible.
They were here to see me.
They probably wanted to touch me the way Cole did.
But all they could do was watch from afar.
Wanting me.
Wanting me.
Maybe Cole was right.
Maybe I liked being watched…
My climax swept through me with a fierce suddenness. Heat pulsed where Cole continued to stroke me. My body grew taut, revelling in the release it desperately needed and had received. I shivered so much, I was unaware Cole had pushed me back down on the cushion. Until I felt something hard rubbing against my folds.
“Do you want me to fuck you now, Jenna?”
“Yes,” I gasped out right away. “Please…”
“Please? Tell me exactly what you want and remember who you’re speaking to.”
“Your cock, sir. I want it inside me. I want you to fuck me.”
Cole pushed into me and I immediately tightened at the press of his thick flesh into my channel.
“You have to relax,” he said softly. It was so at odds with everything he’d done to me tonight.
When I relaxed, Cole grunted and thrust into me fully. My legs trembled and I whimpered at the sharp pain and discomfort. I felt like I was being split in half and it didn’t feel as great as I’d thought it would. This sudden discomfort was like if cold water had been splashed in my face and I’d woken up from a pleasant dream to face harsh reality.
Cole was inside me. He’d stolen my innocence.
He retreated with a groan and pushed into me again.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck… you feel amazing. So fucking amazing.”
The pain and discomfort diminished with each thrust until all that was left was the sensation of Cole moving inside me. In time, the sensation morphed into something enjoyable. He drove into me faster, stroking me. His big hot hands dug into my hips, scorching me.
He dragged a hand up to my hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking on it. Pain prickled my skull, but I’d become accustomed to the fact that with Cole, I got the bad with the good. The pain with the pleasure. He filled me, stretched me, pounded into me without stopping, claiming me as his.
“Oh god… Cole… “ I cried out as a shiver grabbed me and held me hostage. Another orgasm bowled me over, leaving me breathless.
Cole pulled out of me and unstrapped my legs. When he set me on my feet, I could barely stand. My knees tingled from being on them for so long, my legs numb. Cole spun me to face him and hoisted me up into his strong arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist to support myself.
Our faces were close. Closer than they’d ever been. Just one tiny movement and I could touch my lips to his. Despite all we’d done tonight, we hadn’t even shared that beginner level of intimacy. Cole’s dark gaze lingered on my mouth as if he contemplated the same thing too.
A conflicted look crossed his features but he still didn’t kiss me.
He carried me to a flat surface and laid me down on it. My butt was still a bit tender from the whipping earlier, but I focused my attention on Cole as he retreated a step back. God, he was gorgeous. Tall and fit, his cock rising up and hard. I ached for it. Ached for him. His hand on his length, he pumped it as he eyed my body hungrily.
He leaned over me and pressed a hot kiss beneath my navel. He trailed a path of kisses past my stomach and sternum. Then his hot mouth claimed one of my breasts, sucking my nipple and lapping at it. I ran my fingers through his soft hair, moaning as he tasted me.
He feasted on me, a low sound in his throat like he couldn’t get enough. The sound frightened me yet made me want him even more.
“Cole…” I sighed when his lips found my neck, the rough skin around his shaved jaw brushing my skin. Then I said his name with a little more urgency when he pushed into me again.
He groaned and raised himself up so he had more leverage to thrust into me. He proceeded to fuck me harder than before, driving himself into me, the sounds of our flesh slapping together loud in the room.
I could barely keep my legs wrapped around him as I spiralled toward the finish again, clamping down on him tightly as my orgasm wracked my body. Cole kept pounding into me, stroking me deep. He was so rigid, so huge, so fierce in the way he took me, I felt overwhelmed.
I let him take control.
Have me however he wanted.
Fucked me however he needed.
Abruptly, Cole pulled out of me and quickly stroked himself. With a pained grunt, his come shot from him, splattering my stomach and sliding down his fingers. For a split second, disappointment arced through me that I didn’t feel him coming inside me.
When our breathing regulated, Cole retreated from me and went to a paper towel dispenser. Wiping his hands on a wad of paper towels, he returned and cleaned his semen from me too.
He helped me stand. Soreness pulsed between my legs, yet a satisfied sort of tiredness weighed on my limbs. I leaned against the table for support as Cole gathered my clothing.
“Get dressed so I can take you home.” He handed the bundle of clothes to me then gathered his own to put back on.
As we dressed, I tried to find calm in the storm of emotions within me. How could I have let Cole use me like that? I’d behaved like a whore in front of those people behind that window. Cole had blackmailed me and none of those people who witnessed it had done anything to help.
But deep down was dark and brutal honesty.
The soft voice that said I liked what Cole did to me...
I loved every single moment of it…
And if given the chance, I would do it again.
The drive back to my apartment was quiet. I felt Cole’s gaze on me during the drive home. I couldn’t see him because I had the blindfold on, but I felt nervous nonetheless.
“Take off the blindfold,” he said once he slowed the car to a stop.
I removed the silken piece of cloth and folded it, then set it on the dash and undid my seatbelt.
“Is my punishment over?” I asked, my gaze straight ahead.
Too many complex emotions cycled through me and prevented me from looking directly at him. But he was silent for so long, I was compelled to look at him.
His dark gaze trapped mine just like he’d trapped me from leaving his facility tonight. His expression was unreadable and a part of me wished that some day I would get the chance for a tiny glimpse into his thoughts.
“Yes.”
I swallowed, nodded, and spun for the door handle, eager to get out so he couldn’t see the ridiculous disappointment I felt.
His hand clamped down on my arm as I opened the door. Startled, I turned to face him again.
“What are you doing—”
He pulled me toward him, his intent clear seconds before his mouth covered mine. He sank his finger
s in my hair, coiled his arm around me. He held me in place as his hot, hungry kiss stole my breath and my moans, and eradicated whatever dredge of denial I had left that I wanted him again.
“Your punishment might be over, Jenna,” he growled, his lips moving against mine, his voice stoking the fire already burning inside me for him. “But you and I… we’ve only just begun.”
—
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