pulsing with tremors of pleasure. Delicious warmth drips down my legs.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Four more times. A total of seven. All on the same spot. The incendiary sting is more than I can bear. Mama. My safe word is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get my quivering lips to say it. Stifling a whimper on the next crack of the leather, I fall to my knees. Supplicating, I recall the time Pops taught me how to ride a bicycle. I was a disaster. As I was about to give up, he shared an old Japanese proverb: “Fall seven times. Stand up on eight.”
“Eight,” I croak, my voice jagged from my tear-infested arousal. With my trembling hands, I push myself up, back to the semi-squatting position before Brandon’s next inevitable lash. His dominant voice resonates in my ear.
“Are you sorry you ran away from me, Zoey?”
Tensing my body, I prepare myself for one more pelt of his belt. Nine. But instead, he yanks my head back forcefully by a fistful of my hair. My eyes roll back in their sockets.
“Answer me, Zoey.”
“Y-yes.”
“Please show me a little respect. And I want a full sentence.”
“Y-yes, sir. I-I’m sorry I ran away from you.”
“Good girl. Now, promise you won’t ever do it again.”
“I-I promise I won’t ever do it again.” The words come out a little easier.
Satisfied, he releases his hand. My head falls to my thighs like a limp rag doll’s while a sob pushes up from my gut.
“f*ck
. Did I hurt you, Zoey?” His voice is much softer.
“N-no,” I splutter through my tears.
“But you’re crying. Oh, my brave little soldier. I took things too far. I just can’t bear to lose you. You mean too much to me, and I can’t help who I am. I needed to test you…to see if you could let me love you the only way I can.”
“I asked for it,” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. And that’s the truth. I deliberately ran away from him and wanted him to punish me…until I reached tortured euphoria.
“Oh baby, you’re so perfect for me. You turn my darkest desires into moonlight.”
And you are my sun and my stars. On my next sniffle, a breath of cool air skims my raw ass, and then he kisses the sore spot reverently, his tongue coating it like a balm. Aah! The extreme pleasure mixes with the intense pain and creates an erotic cocktail that makes me drunk with desire. I’m addicted. I f*ck
ing want more. Yes. Please. Whip me again. Again and again and again. And then put out the fire with your love. Wishful thinking.
“Don’t move your gorgeous ass, baby. Put your legs and feet together and keep your head down, pressed against your knees. Eyes closed.”
I do as asked, wondering if now he’s going to tie me up with the belt. At least two minutes pass. I feel his eyes on me. My nerves are on edge. Is he studying my backside? Measuring the width? Counting the dimples? Examining his handwork? Comparing me to Katrina? Having second thoughts? I wish he’d stop. My legs are beginning to shake in this yoga-like position. And my aching clit’s not helping.
Finally. “Now please step out of your panties, then stand up and face me.”
I can still feel his eyes on me as I slip my feet out of the leg openings and then slowly lift my torso until I’m erect again. Opening my eyes, I turn around and gasp.
Trembling, I glare at all six-foot-two of his gorgeousness. A god-like template of manly perfection alit in the glow of the full moon. I don’t blink an eye.
He stares at me.
I’m bared to him. Totally bared to him.
And he’s bared to me.
Brandon
f*ck
. In all my fantasies, I never pictured her to be so f*ck
ing beautiful. My eyes soak her in like a sponge. It takes all I have to restrain myself. It’s hard. Really hard. Pun intended.
Her lips are parted, her eyes wide, the expression on her face a mixture of fear and awe. Her lustrous dark hair drapes over her shoulders like a theatrical curtain showcasing her magnificent tits. They quiver as if they’re nervous about making their debut. In my head, her audience of one is applauding them. Applauding her. Screaming bravo. And my cock is giving her a standing ovation.
Against her chestnut hair and the navy sky, her breasts look like porcelain. Her puckered nipples like decorative, hand painted roses, the color of sweet Rosé wine. I so want to feel the weight of them in my hands and taste them. But I’m not done studying her. My eyes travel down her torso, taking in her luscious curves and full hips that seamlessly meet a pair of shapely legs. Her skin is the consistency of white velvet under the moonlight. I want to experience all of her. Every way I can.
“Come here, my beauty.” I signal with my finger. She’s ready for her close-up.