Prima

by Carolyn Faulkner

  Joseph took to soothing her with pleasure. Sam had said not to fuck her, and he didn't say she couldn't cum, although, it pretty much went without saying nowadays. But an orgasm or two always put her to sleep. He couldn't think that it would harm her now. Katherine's soggy face was buried in his denim shirt, her body lying limply against his. Her pajama top had ridden up during her spanking, and Joseph took full advantage of that fact, pushing it up and over her breasts and latching eagerly onto one pink tip while his fingers pulled and rolled its twin gently, almost reverently. His other hand was far from lazy as it drifted purposefully down her bare tummy to delve under the elastic of her pajama pants. Katherine was so relaxed from the medications and a surfeit of sleep that all she could do was writhe sensuously at his touch. Joseph tipped her gently over onto her back, the hand between her legs capturing and holding her woman's center. He just held it for a while as his mouth was very busy elsewhere, licking her full breasts lavishly, then up over her collarbone, kissing the tiny scar there, nibbling the side of her neck and around her jaw line to claim her mouth in an overwhelming, possessive kiss.

  Her sighs and moans and the whimpers coming from deep in her throat drove him crazy, as did the idea that he – the man, for God's sake – was not going to be allowed the sweet release that could be found by burying himself deep within her body. The feeling of denial, if uncomfortable, was…highly intriguing. But she was denied no such thing. And he was going to see to it that she enjoyed it at least as much as he would have. Joseph spent a long time kissing her, dotting the soft skin of her face with his kisses, suckling avidly at those wonderful breasts. The hand over her moist garden stayed quiet and still, despite the way she tried to rub against it.

  Katherine was being driven slowly crazy by the ecstasy he called forth effortlessly from her well-trained body. She knew what he could do with that hand, if he'd only do it, already! Her nipples peaked, her breath unsteady, her body limp and unresisting in his arms. The fingers of that rogue hand began to wiggle, just a little, making her jump with that relatively innocent but promising contact. Joseph lay on his side, leaning over her on his elbow, avidly drinking in every change in expression, every nuance of her arousal.

  When she would have spread her legs wide for him, and moved to do so in anticipation of his demand, Joseph murmured, "No, keep your legs together." His mouth caught a nipple and worried it, making her try to arch. "Stay as still as you can, Katherine," came the whispered order.

  The quieter he wanted her to stay, the more impossible it became to comply, every nerve in her body was totally attuned to him, everything in her wanted to twist and buck and arch.

  "Scream and moan all you like, but don't move. Just let me touch you and pleasure you. Don't use any more strength than you have to. Let it come to you and take you over. You're safe. I'm here." His hand stroked her forehead in a soothing but firm way, almost holding her head down, but not quite.

  One lone finger parted her outer lips with excruciating slowness, and she couldn't control the cry that was torn from her as a part of him finally came into contact with her more riotous nerve endings, although he'd not even touched the center of her storm yet.

  "I love it when you cry out. I adore your moans and your sobs and your enthusiastic agony..." he whispered. The finger remained in limbo as her nipples were suckled extravagantly, pulled to twice their normal size by lips wrapped over teeth, then blown on to chill and tighten them further.

  Finally, when she thought she'd fly apart without him, that teasing finger moved again, settling firmly onto her hugely swollen clit. That was all it took. He didn't move his finger, didn't rub her, didn't do anything, but Katherine nonetheless experienced the ultimate implosion, cumming within his sensual snare with a loud, ferocious scream that he drank into his mouth. His teeth nibbled her neck as she raged with pleasure within his arms, murmuring gentle reminders to try to stay as still as possible.

  It was a monstrous ache. It tore her apart from the inside and crashed over her like a tsunami. She couldn't seem to stop contracting, and he wouldn't let her move in any way. Her little bud pulsed and pulsed and worked and worked, pumping out spasms of ecstasy that went on and on…

  And then the finger moved down her tight crease just enough to wet itself in her pool of honey, then back up to ruthlessly coax another three more orgasms from her, until she lost her voice not from pain this time, but from her body's uninhibited submission to the supreme joy he conjured. When Joseph solemnly kissed her cheek and allowed her to fall asleep in his arms, she was shaking, blubbering, and wrung out.

  And still contracting on his finger.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That scene was replayed innumerable times over the four – almost five – days that Joseph kept her confined to the bed. He spanked her repeatedly, more so as she got better because she became so restless and, at times, out and out cranky, and he wanted her to realize that he wasn't going to tolerate that kind of behavior from her under any circumstances. Joseph took her temperature four times a day, always in the most humiliating way, and there were several times when she got herself a whipping because she forced the annoying little thing back out of her bum after he'd put it into her. His punishments – whether by hand, like now, or by implement – always had her regretting her actions, and these times were no different.

  Once he'd gotten her all teary eyed and apologetic, he'd stick that awful thing back inside her, read it minutes later, then bring her off in all sorts of imaginative ways. One time, he put a mentholated cream on her pussy. When she smelled it and felt the heat starting to build, she flashed to the Ben-Gay he'd used on her before and nearly got hysterical. But Joseph held her down and grabbed her pussy with a hand he'd slathered with the stuff, making the heated ache worse as he fondled her. She waited for the unbearable burning she knew was coming, but it didn't. Instead, all she felt was his hot hand on her even hotter slickness, rubbing her very, very slowly. To compliment the warmth between her legs, he licked toothpaste onto her already erect nipples, holding her steady as she arched and ground into him. But he controlled when she climaxed, and he drew it out till she thought she'd burn up from the inside out.

  Another time, Prima awoke to find him already between her spread legs. The medications seemed to have both a sedative and a muscle relaxant effect, so Joseph busied himself trying to see how wide he could stretch that tight cunny of hers. It turned out not very wide, but that may well have had a lot to do with the size of his hand more so than anything else. Still, with a lot of KY and a rubber glove that had made her glazed eyes go wide at first, he'd gotten three fingers into her while she wiggled and squirmed like a wild thing, gulping air into her lungs and moaning with each firm advance of his hand into that relatively virgin territory. When she was full of him, as full as she could be right now, he bent forwards and licked her swollen flower enthusiastically, smiling when the bud literally jumped in his mouth.

  "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,"she chanted at the pleasure he wrought.

  Still against her, he asked, "You like this, don't you?"

  Like it? She was absolutely mindless – a seething mass of pulsating pleasure. Again. For the third time that day. She couldn't have uttered a coherent sentence if her life had depended on it.

  Long moments of that thick tongue being dragged in agonizingly delightful increments up and over the focal point of her desire, then back down again until his lips surrounded her on either side, warm breath washing over her most sensitized inch.

  Suckling her past his lips, he spoke, his voice reverberating against her. "Answer me, Katherine Marie."

  "Ahh – please – don't - I – Gawd –"

  "You like this, don't you?" he repeated doggedly.

  "Yes!" she screamed, her hands clenching and unclenching in the bed sheets.

  Joseph fucked her with his fingers, stretching her, possessing her most intimate area in every way imaginable, but he moved his mouth away long enough to ask, "And you like me using your
cunt like this, don't you, you like being filled by my fingers and my cock?"

  Prima cried at the loss of his wonderfully talented tongue and lips, her hips rising, seeking his warmth again. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," her body did not allow her any dignity – it wanted what it wanted when it wanted it.

  And it always, always craved Joseph.

  Since he had her right where he wanted her, Joseph couldn't stop himself from slipping in the question, "And you like me owning you, too, don't you?" But he pretended complete indifference to her answer, his voice flat and unemotional. Her answer, of course, would have to be considered as given under duress of sorts, but it disturbed him how much he wanted her to say yes.

  Cries and pleas for release did her no good; in fact, they just seemed to make him mad. Those fingers drove into her relentlessly, forcing her open, stretching her mercilessly.

  "Katherine! Tell me!" His lips flicked her button hard for a few agonizing seconds, then stopped. "Tell me!"

  "Yes, yes, yes."

  More teasing at the behest of his hands and mouth, stopping just short of fulfillment, and then he asked, "Yes what, Katherine? Say it, and I'll let you cum. Say it." Still, completely neutral.

  Her head whipped back and forth, as she fought against admitting to him what she didn't want to admit to herself.

  Tease, thrust, slow, languorous lick. "Do I punish you good and hard? Do I fuck you the same way? Do I keep you safe and protected? Do you eat good? Are you warm and safe in my bed, well-used and sore from it?" A fourth finger was added to her already overburdened pussy, forcibly pressed inside her, where only he had ever been. A low, sexy whisper, "Don't you want to come, Katherine Marie?" Her answering whimper came from the depth of her being. "Say it."

  Tears flowed like rain down the sides of her face, into her hair. She couldn't fight him or herself any longer. "Yes, I like you owning me!"

  The elation he felt at her words nearly drove him to take her himself, but he refrained. Instead, he claimed her pussy almost reverently, suckling at her with unhurried motions calculated to give her the utmost pleasure.

  When the tidal wave of sensations rolled through her and the end was imminent, Katherine fought him, frightened at the intensity of what was coming. But Joseph would not let her avoid it, keeping her trapped right where he wanted her, with him, through it all as she issued a full-throated scream and arched against his avid mouth again and again, screaming and crying and begging, even in the throes of the ecstasy.

  Joseph wrung every last morsel of it from her with no compunction at all, feeling her shudder with each ebbing contraction. When there was no more to draw out of her, he withdrew his fingers, moving to her side with a self-satisfied smile on his face, in spite of the way his cock throbbed against his zipper.

  Katherine was devastated. Defeated. More mortified than she had ever been in her life. What had she just admitted to? How could she face what she had become? The horror built up inside her to an intolerable level, and when he stretched out next to her, she bolted from the bed, not stopping at the bedroom door, or even the door to the house. Her feet bare, but the rest of her covered by pajamas, she ran as if her life and her sanity depended on it.

  And, in a way, it did.

  Not believing that she would truly try to escape, Joseph didn't get up and run after her until he heard the door to the house open. Then he slipped quickly into a pair of sweats and his boots. He did have the presence of mind to stop and enter the code that would suspend the alarms, at least, then he simply loped along her tracks, knowing she wouldn't get far, more annoyed and surprised than angry, at this point, but then he started to think. She was still weak from her illness, which made him frown at the thought that she might have a relapse because of this foolishness. Katherine was barefoot and had headed into the woods that surrounded his compound. Another frown. There were broken bottles, burrs, pickers, and thorns all around in the woods – her delicate skin could be torn up, she could trip and fall, twist her ankle, break her leg…

  As his anger built, Joseph sped up his pursuit, concentrating how he was going to rip into her bottom once he got her back home where she belonged. If she'd hurt herself… Luckily, it didn't take him long to find her, at first he could just hear her crashing through the woods helter-skelter as if the Devil was pursuing her. He dismissed the idea that she might well assign that characterization to him. Then he caught the occasional flash of bright blonde hair through the trees and headed towards it, easily catching her around the waist and carrying her back to the house, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  He couldn't believe it when he set her down in the bedroom, and she bolted again, almost making it out into the yard. Well, he thought with a grimace, she didn't seem to have hurt herself at all during her flight through the woods. Joseph got to the front door just as she opened it and reached past her, slamming it shut. This time, he was taking no prisoners. He stripped her pajama pants down to her knees, turned her around, bent her over his arm, and whacked her butt crisply to let her know of his displeasure. Joseph pushed her away from him, his face dark as night. "Get into that bedroom before I forget that you've been sick!" he ordered.

  Katherine just stood there, shaking, tears streaming down her face, as they had been since he'd caught her.

  "Move!"

  She did move, but not in the way he expected. She fainted dead away.

  When she came to, Prima knew she was on the bed again, not bound by anything but his arm around her waist as he lay right next to her. "You're back," he announced to no one in particular, eying her curiously.

  No more jammies. She was naked as the day she was born, and so was he, but still the first thing she tried to do was get up. Joseph was prepared for that – he had never let himself be caught at a deficit twice until this incident – and he halted her progress just by tightening his arm. "Ah-ah-ahh. You're being quite the little jack in the box today, aren't you? But not again."

  Recognizing that she was well and truly caught, Prima sighed heavily and lay still on her back, eyes screwed shut.

  "Why the sudden urge to depart, Katherine?"

  Silence.

  Joseph was stumped. What had happened to cause such an abrupt about-face in her temperament? She had never, not even in the face of extremely harsh punishments, tried to leave. He thought back to what they had been doing before she bolted. He had been pleasuring her with his mouth and his fingers, as he'd done many times before. He had been demanding answers from her to some pretty tantalizing questions, making her admit to him how much she enjoyed what he did to her, finally extracting the ultimate confession, she liked being owned by him.

  His own carefully suppressed elation at the time had overshadowed what must have been going through her mind. Joseph tried to put himself into Prima's shoes. He had forced her to admit aloud what her body already revealed to him faithfully, each and every time he came near her, that submitting to him made her hot, that even the most severe or embarrassing punishments made her hotter. That she enjoyed being fucked by him, and that all of this was basically okay with her – she liked it.

  Joseph knew that those were things he, personally, would have died before admitting if their roles were reversed. But he had her in a pretty delicate situation under duress – under the lash of his tongue on her most tender spot – seconds from coming but held in check by his greater strength, teased mercilessly and stretched full of his fingers. Joseph remembered her begging, pleading cries. He remembered taunting her, keeping her just short of completion for long, long moments until she said what he wanted to hear.

  Unless it was more than that, and that's why she'd run from him.

  Joseph caught her against him, hugging her hard.

  Prima was totally confused. Shouldn't he be waling on her bottom by now, tearing chunks out of her hide with that rubber strap or the wooden ruler, threatening millions of strokes with the cane? Why were his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, offering comfort rather than chasti
sement? She'd run away from him. How come he wasn't punishing her?

  She lay quietly in his embrace, neither participating nor struggling against it. Katherine didn't move until he started to kiss her, deep, drugging kisses that inevitably caused her natural moisture to flow. She turned her head away from his lips. "Please don't!" In all the embarrassing, humiliating, and agonizingly painful things he'd done to her, and all of the begging she'd done despite promises to herself that she wouldn't, that whispered plea was the most desperate and the most humble she'd ever made.

  And it worked, for the first time. Prima had no idea why, but Joseph stopped and cupped her head between his palms, forcing her to look at him.

  He had decided that the best thing to do was confront the situation, head on, in hopes of preventing a repeat in the future. "It's okay. You don't have to run from me or fight me or yourself any more. You admitted it – you like being owned by me. I'm flattered. You turn me on, too, and I like owning you. I got way more than my money's worth with you."

  His words had exactly the opposite effect from what he'd intended. She began to fight him actively, trying to push him away, her small hands dwarfed against his chest. Joseph was having a hard time not laughing at her, but he didn't, because he knew she was serious in her intentions – that if she got away, she'd try to leave again, and he'd end up having to chase her down. So he subdued her as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt her or let her hurt herself. Katherine gave it a valiant try, through a veil of tears. He had to admit she was a fighter; she wore herself out, kicking, wiggling, trying to dive out from under his arm. It finally ended up that the best thing he could do was lie on top of her, his hands pinning her flailing arms to her sides just above the elbows, so that she couldn't even bend her arms. His hips held her legs well apart and essentially ineffectual against him, but still she struggled as best she could, until he gave up and entered her with his straining erection in one powerful flex of his hips, groaning as her sweet warmth closed around him.