Authors: Willow Madison
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Romantic Erotica
Chapter 15 HIM
She steps backwards into the apartment, two, three steps. She turns away and moves faster into the room. But not fast enough.
I put my glass on the table and in two strides, I'm on her.
I grab her hair and yank her towards me. She cries out and her body snaps to me. I put my arm around her front, pinning her arms to her side, her body to my chest. Through gritted teeth, "Did I tell you to leave?"
She can only shake her head slightly more than her body is shaking against me. "No. I didn't. Just like I didn't tell you that you could be a
whore
tonight." I yank her hair back more, making her cry again. "But you
were
a whore, weren't you?"
She tries to shake her head, pulling without care against my hold on her hair. "No. Answer me. Say it, whore."
"I...I..." she sobs until I pull her hair again. "I was...whore." Her words choked on her sobs, her body folding against my arm despite the hold on her head.
I let her hair and body go, watching as she almost falls onto the sofa. She recovers and lands to face me, sitting with her hands bracing her sides. I stand over her.
"Say it again."
She shakes her head slightly, but repeats without a sob, "I was a whore." And I slap her. Hard enough to make her fall back against the sofa, putting her hand up to her face.
"Move your hand and say it again."
She stares at me with her hand up for a few blinks. I don't move. She'll either do as she's told or be in more trouble. It's up to her.
She slowly lowers her hand, shaking, and says it again. I smack her, just as hard; she's pushed off balance again.
My hand curls into a fist. It takes all my control to relax it again. I can't hit her. I'd break her. But God help me. I want to.
She lowers her hand and looks up at me. Waiting. Her eyes brightened with fear. Her tits rising and falling quickly. But she sits completely open to me. Waiting for the pain she deserves.
"Stand up."
I don't move back, so she has to shakily stand inches from me. "You have to the count of three to undress." I count quickly while she undresses just as quick.
She stands before me naked, her hands behind her back, trying to behave how I expect. I slap her left tit hard and grab her right arm before she falls back against the sofa. Holding her up, I continue to slap her tit several times. She keeps her hands behind her back, but cries out and begs with her eyes after a few slaps. But she doesn't speak or beg out loud.
I let her go and she falls back to the sofa, but quickly bounces up to stand next to me again.
"Follow."
She moves quietly behind me. Her arms loosely behind her back, her head bent forward.
I stop in front of the closet. "Get the belt."
She opens the door and retrieves it, but holds it in front of her body, unsure where to put it. I take it from her gently. She hasn't tried to beg or persuade me not to be angry; it helps to hold my temper in check. I know she understands how much she deserves to be punished.
"I told you that if you ever let another man touch you, I'd beat you with this belt so badly you'd not be walking the next day." She nods with a heavy sob, not meeting my eyes. I lift her chin gently with the doubled belt to look into her eyes. Fear is only a small part. Her pleading and sadness match my anger. I know that my Lucy is truly repentant.
But it's not enough.
I need to see her tears.
I need to hear her screams.
Chapter 16 HER
"Lie on the bed, face down." I crawl into the middle of the bed and lay flat. "Arms stretched above your head." I pull the cover into my fists. "Legs together."
I don't try to plead or resist. If I show him how willing I am to take his punishment, his anger, he'll be able to forgive me. Please forgive me!
I feel a little thump next to me and try to move my head to see. "No. Keep your face down." I stop moving. My hair a cover around me. I breathe through the blanket, trying to calm myself. Waiting.
I hear the closet door open again. I jump when Max grabs my ankles, but he has a firm hold of them. He's tying my feet to the bed?! With rope?! Where did he get rope?! My mind circles. The rope burns a little as he tightens it.
"I'm not going to tie your hands, Lucy." That's a relief. "You'll have to keep them out of the way on your own." That doesn't sound good.
"If you move," He stops. His voice is deeper. The edge sharper. He's trying not to growl his words, trying to keep his temper reined in long enough to say what he needs to.
A bolt of fear shivers down my back and stabs my stomach. My mind dredges up the night he put me in the closet. His anger barely in check then. He said he put me in there to keep me safe, away from his anger. Tonight, he's not waiting. Tonight, he's not sheltering me from his wrath.
"Don’t move."
"...Please..." I'm too scared to stop myself. But I keep my face hidden, a muffled plea. I don't want to see the face that goes with his glass voice.
"Do you understand me, little girl?"
"Yes...yes, Sir." I hear him move to my left side. I can't hold in my fear. I lift my head a little, "Max! Please!..." I cry and shake. "I'm sorry....please!"
I hear a whoosh and feel the belt. A fire across the middle of my cheeks, wrapping around my hip. I scream, a high cry of pain and shock. He doesn't wait for my next plea. I don't know if he hit me two or three times in a row, a fire spreads from the same spot. In my mind, I'm a rabbit running for the bushes. But I keep my hold on the bed.
I can't catch my breath, he hits me again. And again. And again.
My throat burns from screaming into the bed. My body drenched and trembling. He pauses only long enough for me to catch a quick breath, my plea torn with another searing crack of his anger. The belt rising and falling four more times.
Fire and ice. Heat peaks, spreads, pushes numbness aside. Run, rabbit, run.
But I stay. Eyes and fists balled. Tears soaking tears. I lose count.
My cry doesn't stop. I pull it in and push it out. Air a painful punishment. And he doesn't stop.
He moves to the other side of the bed. Tick tick tick. I have only a moment before he starts again. A gulp of hot air, choking on tears and snot and hair and blanket.
The fresh angle sends shooting pain. Fire pain to skin yet touched by his anger. Ice pain to welts well whealed.
The bed moves with my convulsions. I don't know when he finally stops. I keep the bed moving.
Chapter 16 HIM
I have to stop.
I have to stop.
Stop. Goddammit!
Stop!
But I feel my legs move. Around to the other side. I feel my arm lift. Belt in the air. I feel the impact with her. I watch her swollen cheeks dance under my belt. And I lift my arm again.
Her cries fill me. I need them. I need her.
Finally. I stop.
But I watch. Her ass continues to shade red and purple. Her hips and thighs crisscrossed with clear belt marks. The middle, bruises under bruises. Her body pushes up and down with sobs. Her head bobbing uncontrollably, her mouth wide open under her mass of hair. Finally a deep sob out turns to shattered gulps for air and control.
I watch.
Arms still stretched. Hands still balled. Every muscle strained.
But she didn't move.
She took it.
And I'm hard.
I step back and drop the belt.
I watch my clothes fall to the floor. I watch my hands undo the ropes. I watch my hands spread her legs.
I watch her back arch to me.
I stop.
Chapter 17 HER
I don't hear him.
I don't know where he is. Or if he'll start again.
He beat me in silence. I cry a long moan at this. But I'm silent. My throat doesn't want to give any more voice to my pain.
I hear a thud and metallic clang on the floor. And panting.
He's standing at the end of the bed? Watching me?
I feel a hard tug at my ankles and cry out. A harsh cracked sound.
He releases me.
I loosen my grip on the bed. Close my mouth against it. It's over?
He opens me. And I arch to him.
Every inch on fire. The pain filling the cracks in the icy numbness. But I arch to him.
Fill me with your forgiveness!
He stops.
I move my face to the side. A hot hoarse whisper, "Please...forgive me."
He lands hard on the bed, legs pinned against my hips, rocking me against him. The heat of his ass and balls slapping against the heat of my ass and thighs. I cry out, no sound.
When the bed stills, he puts his hands gently on my ass. Heat sears us to be one.
He pulls me apart. The heat escapes for a moment. Shoved back in with his first thrust.
He's brutal. Hard. Pounding.
And I meet him with each thrust. Arched for each one.
"You are mine."
"I am yours." Barely a crackle.
"You are mine."
No sound.
We cum together. His choked words. Mine no sound.
.....
I close my eyes. He moves off gently. I pull my arms down to the side of my head.
"Don't move." I don't think I could if I wanted to. Every muscle burns. My butt...I run from focusing on this. Let the numbness stay a little longer.
I watch through my hair as he returns with cool towels. He places one across my butt. A shock waving tension through me again. I cry out, soundless.
He pushes my hair back and wipes my face with the other towel. "Blow." And he holds the towel while I blow into it. He wipes me clean.
"I'm getting ice." And I watch as he walks away. I close my eyes when he's gone.
The towel wiping between my legs startles me awake. A crack in my voice. He places a new towel on my butt, gently. Places a bag of ice on this, gently.
"Open your mouth." And I do, my eyes following his fingers from a glass to my mouth. He places an ice cube on my tongue and my throat welcomes the relief. My heat melts it quickly.
I open my mouth for another. He places it for me.
"Close your eyes and sleep, baby." And I do.
.....
My eyes shoot open at the pain. The ice falls to the side. It's dark, but the bathroom light is on.
I can see Max clearly. He moves quickly to take the ice away. He must have been awake, sitting next to me this whole time.
"Do you need the bathroom?"
I try to say yes, but my throat burns. I only nod.
He gets up and gently slides me towards him. He's gentle but my butt cries against movement. He rolls me to the side and I wince, eyes squeezed shut. He picks me up and carries me to the bathroom. The light blinds me for a moment. I squeeze my eyes shut again, blocking the view of my swollen and bruised body.
Gently, he puts me down, my hands gripping his arms. He braces me over the toilet. The humiliation is nothing to the relief but returns to the forefront when he wipes me. I lean my forehead onto his cool shoulder. Look at what has become of me.
He carries me back to the bed and gently places me on my left side. I stay curled up and he puts a pillow under my head and pulls the blanket over me.
Wiping my hair away, "I'm going to get you some juice." I watch him walk away.
I open my eyes to the sound of the glass on the nightstand. I thought I'd kept them open.
He holds the glass for me, holds my head for me. I cough on the juice against my throat, but this helps. He puts a pill in my mouth. "This will help you sleep, baby." And I do. I thankfully drift back to blackness quickly…I don’t want to think of what Max has done to me.
.....
I'm awake. And alone. I move slowly, testing where I still hurt. I pull my legs over the side of the bed and push myself up to stand.
Ok. Good. I'm standing. Now for moving.
Walking is painful. Light steps quake my butt. I can't tell where my butt and thighs meet or end, just one giant thumping pain and little screaming pains all jumping up and down. But I'm moving.
In the bathroom, I stare at the toilet. Nope. Can't do it. Can't sit. Don't even want to try.
I turn to the shower instead. I wait for the steam on the door. But with my head down, eyes not looking at my reflection. Not ready to see myself yet.
The warm water is a relief, my face and hands up to the rainhead. I pee. I don't care.
I wash, gently, not putting my hands on my butt, keeping the water on my front. Small movements.
The fluffy soft towel isn't soft enough, but I wrap myself in it anyway, over my head, around my body. My cocoon.
Deep breath. Look. Just look and be done with it.
I lower the towel and look at my face. Puffy eyes, red nose. Good. No bruises this time.
I turn a little. Deep breath, just keep breathing. I quickly lower the towel and gasp.
I'm a railroad of belt lines on my hips and thighs with an epicenter of purple. The side of my left breast is a big bruise. I can't look away. I turn more to see a different reflection. Is that
my
butt?
My
legs? The pain answers yes.
I pull the towel back up to my head and stare into my eyes.
The pain is what I deserve. For my stupidity. My betrayal. I should've left last night when Rich showed up. I shouldn't have let him sit next to me. Drunk. I shouldn't have let him touch me. Drunk, leaning on me.
I should've had the strength to walk away. But I didn't want to upset Laura or Tracy. I didn't want to make a scene in front of Rosa.
I look into my eyes and try to remember what I thought last night. Did I think I could get away with it? Because Max wasn't supposed to be there. Did I think that he wouldn't punish me as he promised if he found out?
Max always keeps his promises. I knew the consequence. I had no idea how much anger he kept hidden inside. But I knew the consequences of pushing open that door. Pushing the limits of his forgiveness.
I shake, burying my face into my fists, holding the towel up, remembering his look of pure anger. Right before he grabbed me. It all seemed to happen so fast. But that look...I didn’t know him.
I remember what I thought when I turned away from the terrace…that I had to get away from him. That thought flew away quickly, but it shocked me.
And I pull my head up to see his face in reflection at the door now.
No anger. No expression. Just watching me.
I slowly drop the towel and let him see. I know he's kept watch over me all night. He's seen. But I offer him myself now.
I try to speak, but have to swallow several times to get my voice to work, hoarse and sore, "I'm sorry, Sir." He remains expressionless, blinking. "Thank you." I think this is what he's waiting for.
But he stays at the door, his eyes slowly coming up from my butt to my eyes.
There's pain there now. His voice gravels over the words, "You're sorry? Look at what I did to you?!"
I shake my head, but stop when he moves closer. With his hand on my chin, he looks at my butt in the mirror. "I said I would do this. Didn't you believe me, little girl?"
"...Yes, Sir." His fingers under my chin forcing my head back, my throat strains to get the confession out.
"And still you defied me?!"
"Yes, Sir." He lowers his hand and I lower my chin a little, swallowing.
"Then you got what you deserved." But he says this so quietly.
"Yes, Sir." I start my apology again, to try to explain, "I should've left when Ri..."
"Don't say his name to me." Anger flares in his eyes and I lower mine in submission. "If you know what's good for you, little girl, you'll never say that name again." I watch his stomach flutter with a deep breath. Shutting the door on his anger again, his voice calmer, "You should've obeyed me. You shouldn't have been anywhere near another man. And yes, you should've left."
"Yes, Sir."
"You'll be staying home for the next two weeks. And you won't be continuing your friendship with Tracy." I shoot my eyes up to him at this, no defiance, just questioning. "Laura told me that she invited that man last night." I only nod once, lowering my eyes again. I didn't know that. I thought it was a coincidence that Rich showed up. "I won't have my wife whoring around with a slut that thinks that's ok." His words stab me.
"Yes, Sir." He starts to turn away and I panic. "...Max?!" He doesn't say anything, the pain in his face is replaced for a moment by concern though. "Do you...do you forgive me?"
He puts his hands on both sides of my head and kisses my forehead. "Of course, baby." He gently wraps his arms around me and I know he's looking at my butt again. I bury my face in his chest. I can feel his cock hardening under his boxers.
He gets hard seeing his marks on me. I get wet knowing this. I don't try to analyze it. It's just us.
When he tries to move away, I hold on tighter. Kissing his chest. He gently pulls me away with a firm grip on my shoulders. "I can't. It'd hurt you too much."
"Please..." I try to push against his hands but the pain shoots from my butt and thighs. I wince a sharp breath in, out. I need to feel his forgiveness even if it will hurt.
He hesitates. A twisted grimaced grin before his mouth smashes mine. His hands find my tits, squeezing. Travelling down, cupping my pussy. His palm is wet from me, a finger slides in easily, pressing hard against me. A moan is ripped from me, raw.
"You want me?"
"Yes...please, yes!"
He lowers his head to my neck, lips kissing my heartbeat, "I won't be gentle."
"I know."
I clutch at his arms, nails digging, wanting more. He turns me quickly to face the counter. I brace my hands and bend forward a little, on tip-toe, ignorant of the pain now. He enters me gently, deeply. Watching my face in reflection. His body cool against my ass.
I cry out when he grips my hips, but he doesn't let go, holding me in place. He pulls back almost to the tip. Twisted grin. He rams into me, tearing a scream from deep in me. The pain shoots out in all directions. But he only pulls back for another thrust.
He watches me in the mirror. I try to catch my breath, speared on his cock, legs shaking, hands slipping on the counter. He slaps into me again. A moaning cry, an animal almost freed, but still painfully trapped. He fucks me slow and hard, keeping his eyes on my face. Watching the explosion of pain, the release of pleasure.
We don't last long. His thrusts speed us to our finish. I'm sobbing again, my orgasm, the pain, his forgiveness. All rolled into one. What have I become?!
He turns me gently and holds me against his chest. My tears matt his hair down. I stop when I taste his sweat and my saltiness mixed. I want to cry on him more, to have him slap away all memory of my betrayal.
He gently pulls away and looks into my face, wiping my cheeks with his palms.
"You've been punished enough, baby. Time to get back in bed and rest more." He always knows what I'm thinking.
I meekly let him lead me to the bed and tuck me in again. He rubs my head until I drift off.