by Measha Stone
Her breasts swung as she crawled, the fucking tail doing the same behind her. His cock must be hard as hell watching her. Her throat closed up, like she was going to start crying, but she swallowed hard several times, blinking her eyes to keep any tears thinking to appear away. She wouldn’t break down, not now, now here, not with him.
There would be plenty of time to feel all the anger, the sorrow, the pity later on. Alone in her bed. Not while kneeling at his feet.
Moving across the hard flooring of the room, she ignored his presence. He kept silent but his gaze warmed her bare flesh. He hadn’t checked out, he watched her with obvious enjoyment. Asshole.
When she approached the silver bowl of water, she sat back on her heels and waited. John walked around her, deliberately taking more steps than he needed to get in front of her. Squatting down, he brought himself to her eye level.
“Do kittens beg?” he asked, wiping a string of spit dangling from her mouth. Instead of wiping it on her cheek as he had done earlier, he wiped it across her chest, circling her nipple with his wet finger.
Her body reacted to his touch, her nipples hardened, and her pussy clenched in need. But she would not betray her mind; she didn’t respond.
“I think my kitten does.” He clamped down on her nipple with his fingers.
She cried out, the intensity of his grip surprised her and the sharp pain shot through her body. He released her and smiled. A casual uplift of his lips, showing off the devil in him.
“How do you think kittens beg?” he asked, rolling the tender nipple between his fingers. Not enough pressure to give her the bite she now craved, but enough to make the flesh more irritated.
She tried to meow, give him the little sound he seemed to want, but the gag made it too hard. Twisting her torso away didn’t help matters at all. It was as though the man could read her mind; his fingers pinched her nipple, so when she moved, she ended up pulling her own damn nipple.
She growled and slapped her thigh.
“Almost, but not quite.” He released her. The burn of the blood returning to the area replaced the sharp pain of his pinch. And just to add insult to injury, he flicked his finger across her nipple. She moaned again and reared back. “Ooh, closer.” He patted her head.
Realizing what he wanted, she bit down on the silicone ball. More drool spilled from her pried-open lips, dripping onto her thighs and rolling to the floor. She could do this. She had to. He wasn’t going to let her get away without obeying him.
Pushing herself up to her knees, she knelt up and bent her elbows and wrists until her hands folded forward and she presented herself as his begging kitten.
He raised an eyebrow.
Fucker.
She mewled, creating a whining sound deep in her throat until his smile cracked open wide and he let out a heartwarming laugh. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing her display herself in such a way. She expected a swarm of tears to fall from her eyes, to feel her heart hammer in her chest at her humiliation. But the pleasure she saw in him, the complete joy glowing back at her from his expression eased the edges of the embarrassment. Softened her anger at him until she found herself mewling more.
She moved closer to him and rubbed her head against his hand.
“Ah, there’s my good kitten,” he said and held her head with both hands. He pushed her head down and unfastened the gag, yanking it free of her teeth.
She worked her jaw and wiped away all the spit from her chin. He still watched her, seemingly fascinated by her. For what reason? She’d just done what she needed to do in order to get what she wanted. It was an act. A means to an end.
And if he thought her obedience meant anything other than survival, he was delusional.
“Drink now.” He pushed the bowl closer to her.
On all fours, she leaned forward and began to lap up the water. So cold, so delicious, so soothing. It splashed on her face, some made its way out of the bowl, but she didn’t care. Her throat had been so dry, so sore.
He chuckled behind her, but she ignored him.
“Do you even realize you’re wagging your ass while you drink?”
She froze. Fuck. She had been. Dammit.
Taking one last drink of the water, she sat back on her heels and cleaned off the droplets from her face. He patted her head and picked up the bowl.
“Now, we can talk while I get the spanking bench set up for your punishment.”
“I’d rather not talk. Can’t you just do it so I can go to bed?” She clenched her ass, knowing it would be lit on fire as soon as he was ready.
He shook his head. “Nope. I think we have more than a punishment happening tonight. I think it’s time we dealt with that demon on your back.”
“I don’t have any demons. You’re probably confusing me with yourself. Detective Hamish looks all kind and pure on the outside, but inside there’s just an asshole who crates up women and beats them into submission.” It wasn’t a fair statement, but it didn’t matter.
He stopped walking and turned back to her, squaring off with her from across the room. “Beats women? Hmm. Is that what you thought at the club, when we met? I’m a woman beater?”
She didn’t answer. Going back on her statement now would only aid him, and he didn’t need any help from her.
“You don’t have to respond. I already know the answer. You’re saying things you don’t mean, because you want to avoid this. No need to deal with it now, when we can deal later, right?” He walked behind the spanking bench in the corner and lifted one side up, pushing it to the center of the room.
She watched the muscles of his arms tense with the movements, the way his shirt stretched across his back as he repositioned the bench. When had they become enemies?
“You’re mad ‘cause I blew out the car window. I get it, so go ahead and spank me.”
“Tell me about your mom,” he countered.
“What?” She sat back on her heels, wiggling her ass until the tail fell between her feet and didn’t put pressure on the plug. “I already told you.”
“Your boyfriend taught you how to use a gun for a reason. I want to know what it is.” He walked to the implements and pulled down the thick strap he’d pointed out earlier.
“Just because.”
He nodded, swinging the strap in the air as he went back to the bench. “Just because.”
“Yes.”
“So, he didn’t know about your mom’s addiction? The dealers she brought home, the boyfriends looking for another score, maybe a younger piece of ass?”
“Fuck you,” she shouted at him. Her chest clenched. “My mom never hurt me, she would never let anyone touch me.” Marie was an addict, and sometimes she’d be gone for a day or two, but she had never brought home anyone who would hurt her. If someone stopped by the apartment, Marie dealt with him, and he would leave.
“She may not have let them, but there were times she’d pass out, right?” He laid the strap on the bench and strode over to her.
“Just strap me if you’re going to do it.” She turned away from him. “I already told you, nothing like that ever happened.”
“So then, what? He wanted you to have a gun to protect yourself because your mom was never home? Is that it? She’d disappear?”
Julie’s chest clenched.
“My mom wasn’t June Cleaver, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about me,” Julie didn’t look at him, she couldn’t. The burn in her heart stole her focus. Too many memories needed to be tucked away. Nights of fear because she was alone, not knowing when her mom was coming back. Sirens had blared from the streets below, fights from other apartments had spilled into the hallways, all of it had kept her up at night. Keeping her on guard.
“You don’t think before you act, you just leap with your heart. Not always a bad trait, but when we’re trying to survive, and get our heads around this whole thing, it’s dangerous.” The change in subject made her head swim. Was he trying to delve into her past, or chastise her for the present?
“I don’t wait around for the stars to align, no. There’s a problem, I take care of it. So what?” She pressed her nails into her thighs. The sting brought her racing heart back down, helped her concentrate. She would need to keep her head about her if she was going to get through this strapping.
“Right, you take care of it. You’ve never had a partner before, never had someone to work beside you. So, you just keep jumping in the lead, even when it’s not your position to jump into.”
“Is that what you’re pissed about? You didn’t get to be the one shooting?” She forced a laugh.
“How do you think your mom got involved with Tommy Addante? Was he around before? Maybe before he went to prison?”
“How the hell should I know? She didn’t tell me anything about those guys, where she got the drugs. I tried to find out, to stop them from selling to her, but…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. No point crying over the past.
“Is that why your boyfriend taught you to shoot? Why he gave you the gun?”
“You know, you’re not exactly perfect yourself. How are you much better? Locking me up in the cage, gagging me, punishing me? You demand obedience, just like Tommy. How are you any better!” She shook her head. She would not let the tears come, they would not fucking fall, not now.
He slid onto his knees before her, grabbing her collar and shaking her until she opened her eyes and looked at him.
“The difference is I demand what you already want to give. I expect obedience because it keeps us both safe, and I give you what you need when you need to feel safe, when you need to have the outside world stop spinning around you so you can catch your breath. The difference is everything I do is for your wellbeing.”
“You put me in a cage, made me drink from the damn bowl,” she whispered, feeling a warm tear start to slip from her eye.
“And just like before, the door wasn’t locked. Your hands weren’t bound, you could have removed the gag anytime. And you could have yanked out that tail the second I walked away. Not for one second did you fear me, really fear me. You didn’t storm out of your cage or pull off the gag or the tail because every moment you allowed yourself to feel it, to sink into yourself, it gave you another moment of calm. Gave you time to refocus your thoughts, to put your real fear, your real hurt to the side.”
He hadn’t locked the cage. He hadn’t threatened her to keep the gag in. Everything he said was true.
“I can’t keep you safe, us safe, if you go off like I don’t matter, like what I say is negotiable. This only works if you’re by my side. Charging ahead doesn’t work. Not for finding your mom, and not for whatever is happening between us.”
His brow crinkled as he spoke. Her collar loosened as he peeled his fingers away.
She licked her dry lips and wiped her cheek where the single tear had escaped. “I won’t shoot out any more windows.”
His lips spread into a grin. “I know it’s always been you against the world. Running around with a safety net trying to catch your mom when she fell, but right now, you need to let me hold the net. I’ll catch you. Got me?”
“You humiliated me in order to teach me to follow your lead?” She touched his cheek. The rough stubble of his unshaved skin scratched her palm.
“I brought you to your safe place, to the dark place where you let yourself feel the most, so I could drag you out of it to my safe place. So now we can work together, really together to find your mom, get Tommy off your ass, and somehow keep my job in the process.”
“Oh, just those things?” She smiled and dropped her hand. It sounded impossible. These things they were trying to do, how could they manage it with so many people against them?
“Yeah, just those things.” He kissed her cheek.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. If she was going to fall apart in front of anyone, it could be him. He could catch her, she believed him.
“Now, get over to the bench and put your ass up in the air for your strapping.”
Chapter Seventeen
The sadist beast inside enjoyed every move she made as she crawled to the bench. The markings on her ass from her previous punishments were a testimony to her strength, and to the lengths at which he would go to keep her safe.
She hid something from him, a sordid secret buried a long time ago. He only hoped it wasn’t so deep he couldn’t extract it for her.
The tail, now his favorite piece of her wardrobe, swayed with her movements, and brushed against her skin as she climbed up onto the spanking bench. He’d planned to use the strap on her until she was too sore to even think of moving again, but things changed when she followed his instructions so easily. She didn’t want to, he could see it in her eyes, the way she narrowed them, the way her nostrils flared just the tiniest bit before she complied, but she had.
She’d let him lead her down a road she didn’t know she needed, and when he’d gotten her there, when he’d brought her into the calm and quiet of her mind, she’d freed herself to his command. He would still punish her. He would never go back on his word, especially when it came to a punishment. But it wouldn’t be the harshest she could receive from him.
“Grip the handles.” He ran his hand over her upturned ass. So beautiful, so ready for him. With her knees on the leather pads, her legs were spread, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her pussy. Her plump, glistening pussy. Fuck, he wanted to bury himself inside of her.
Not yet.
Fuck.
He should strap her more for making him have to wait to thrust his cock into her.
“You’re getting ten.” A third of what he’d wanted to give her when they pulled into the garage over an hour earlier. “And then you’re getting a fucking. And not one that you’re going to moan and love, one that’s going to be all about me taking what’s mine and you just taking it. Got me?” He could admit his voice had dipped down into more of a growl. Maybe she hadn’t heard him.
“Do you get me, Julie?” he asked, slapping her ass hard with his bare hand. The bounce of her ass after the smack hardened his cock. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he’d come in his pants.
Maybe he should give her an extra dozen for making him act like a virginal teen.
“Yes,” she squeaked.
He went around to the front of the bench and fisted her hair, pulling her head back so he could look into her eyes. Dark round eyes stared up at him, pupils fully dilated, and her thick lips parted. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
Another dozen for distracting him.
“Stick with me, kitten. You’re gonna want to pay attention here.” He let go of her hair and patted her cheek. “Count them.”
He stepped into position, swinging back and unleashing the thick strap against her ass. She grunted. Her body pushed forward from the impact.
He stilled.
Nothing.
“Okay. I guess that one didn’t count.” He pulled his hand back.
“Wait, one! One!” She tried to rectify her mistake.
“Too late,” he called over her shoulder and brought the strap down again.
She cried out, her knuckles tightened around the grips. “One!” she screamed.
No sense in delaying, he brought the leather down again, lower this time, hitting her thighs and catching the tail in the process.
“Two!” Her right foot lifted off the bench, but quickly went back in place. She wouldn’t want him to start over.
He took a moment to flip the tail up, so it rested on her back, exposing the bottom portion of her ass, the most tender, the readiest to feel the bite of the strap. The sit spot. His ally when faced with a disorderly submissive, and one that needed a harsher punishment than others.
Standing back, he re-gripped the handle of the strap, swinging it back and forth until he had a comfortable snap going. It would be easier for him with a flogger, but he would make do with what he had.
Lifting his arm, he grinned at the red blotches staring back at him. Li
ke a canvas waiting for the masterpiece to be painted.
He flicked his wrist, came down hard from the right, then the left and then right again.
“Oh, fuck!” she yelled. “Three. Four. Five!”
“Keep going, less cursing,” he called over her cries as he continued his assault.
“Six… Seven… argh… John! Eight!” She kicked out her left foot, her hands left the grips and smacked at the leather pad in front of her. But she didn’t get up, so he ignored that she’d forgotten to mention the ninth stroke and went straight into the last.
He moved to the side, pulled back and brought the leather strap down hard with a resounding smack that filled the room.
“Oh, my god. Oh, hell.” She gasped for air, pressing her forehead into the bench.
“What was that?” he asked, raising the strap for another lick.
“Ten! I was getting to it.” She sounded out of breath, like she’d just run around the room.
He left her to catch her breath and put away the strap, evaluating the craftsmanship as he hung it back up. Maybe he’d ask Blake where he’d gotten it from. It seemed well made and well used. He could use something like in his arsenal.
“That was… I hate that thing. I really hate it,” she said, still breathing heavy.
“Good.” He stood behind her and smacked her hip. She grimaced and turned away to look forward. “Do you remember what comes now?”
“Yes. You’re going to fuck me.”
“And do you think you’ll enjoy it?”
She looked back at him from over her shoulder. No matter how much she may not have liked the strap, not a single tear shined in her eyes. “Probably.”
Oh, kitten. Wrong answer.
He unbuckled his belt, threw down his zipper, and pulled out his cock. Her sex would be ready for him, there wasn’t a doubt about that, he’d seen how slippery her pussy lips became during her strapping. That didn’t mean he’d be gentle. Her pussy may be ready for him, she may want his cock buried deep inside her, but she would not find the release she craved.
