Fok. Scintillatingly good.
There was no one to see what I did to her. Not for a hundred miles or more of bare ocean. Only the fish, the birds, the crabs, and me, the big dirty-minded sadist.
“You think I’m done, do you?”
She watched from the corner of her eyes, face damp from tears, sucking on her lip. If I hit her right now she’d bite herself. Those tears were so attractive, as were her little sounds when I hurt her, and that wriggling she did would win awards for seductiveness. My cock was telling me more bad things I could do.
I reached down and traced the path of her tears over her cheek then I freed her lip from her teeth. As slowly as a snake traversing steps, I bumped my finger along her front teeth, nudging past her moist little tongue tip. That she didn’t dare to try to bite was telling.
I could, theoretically, fuck her mouth right now. My cock hardened and I reached down and grasped myself through my surf shorts.
No one to stop me putting it there, or anywhere else. No watch dogs, no police, no neighbors, and no limits whatsoever.
What the hell was I doing?
I wrenched my attention away from her, stood, and walked off the concrete to the beach. I let the wind buffet me. Sure there was only me, but I’d been used to putting my trust in myself all my life. I liked making a woman scream when I whipped her but that wasn’t new. The only novelty was that this one, Jazmine, had no say in what I did or when I stopped.
Being her judge and executioner was totally doable. I trusted me.
I took my dose of antibiotics from the packet in my shorts and swallowed them. Then I looked at her, noting she’d moved back into a kneeling position. There was a good reason for chastising her. I hadn’t told her to do that. Having logical reasons for my sadistic impulses seemed important.
I went to the box full of toys and goodies I’d bought in a rush this morning from the local kinky shop – my first essentials for this desert island holiday, along with food, torches, sleeping bags and so on.
Gags, whip, rope, straps, bars, more rope, clamps, etcetera, and so on and, of course, the cane. I fished that out along with a pair of padlockable ankle and wrist cuffs, her new red collar, and a leash that had come from the pet store. I’d found a good metal tag that had Kitty engraved on it. Damn, I hoped she’d spit when I attached it to her neck.
I’d even packed some needles. Elenor would’ve run screaming from those.
When I turned up in front of her with the collar in hand, her eyes grew round.
“No. You took off the collar from the House. Please, those are evil.” Her shudder rocked her breasts, reminding me of my idea.
When I laid my finger across my lips, she fell silent.
“This is a collar from me, no one else. It says you’re mine. You’re to leave it on, unless I say to remove it. Sit still.”
As I adjusted and buckled the collar, her lips firmed and I sensed a new determination to resist me. So be it. Game on. I had plans to make her mind come around. I didn’t intend to have to monitor her every day, every second. The tag swung and I flicked it.
“Says Kitty. I could call you that but meisie will do unless I’m in a kitty cat mood.”
Now the fire was lit. “I’m not a cat!”
“You are whatever I say you are, and from now on I don’t intend to call you Jaz or Jazmine. You will answer to meisie or maybe Kitty. You will be given daily punishment, whatever I choose, as well as any extra punishment you may have earned.” I grinned. An explosion seemed imminent. I put my forefinger on her forehead. “If you talk without my permission, you earn punishment. You will call me Sir when you address me. If you have a question you can ask permission to talk by saying, ‘please Sir, may I ask a question?’ Clear?”
Her bodice was heaving dramatically. “Fuck! No, I will not!” At the slide of my fingers up into her hair and the levering backward of her head, she clammed up.
Bingo. Caught you. I leaned in, with a nasty twist to my mouth. I was trying so hard not to smile. I made my voice low, so low earthquakes were a distinct possibility. I wanted to scare the crap out of her now, today, early. To nip rebellion in the bud. To make her know I was her master. Her eyes went wide and still. Her mouth gaped as if she had more words but she’d decided to swallow them.
“I have noted that fokken outburst. If there’s another one, I’ll punish you now. Got that? Say, yes, Sir.”
I almost hoped she’d be bad again, but she whispered a yes, sir, then waited.
“Good.” I went behind her and released her wrists, tucked the handcuffs in my pocket then attached ankle cuffs and linked them. Now she was hobbled. “We’re moving the boxes into that first cabin up there. It’s the only one with an intact roof and Glass has the generator and the fuel drums nearby. You’re helping. So you don’t do anything stupid, this island is too small to hide on and the nearest piece of land is hundreds of miles away. Try swimming somewhere and I guarantee you’ll get eaten by sharks.”
The fuel drums were far enough from the hut that we wouldn’t go up with a bang if the fuel erupted, close enough that I could watch for thieves of that or any equipment like the bolted-down generator.
The little cabin had no paint left on the weathered timber walls. The windows were long gone but we had shutters. No lights unless I ran the gen and I wasn’t doing that. We had some gas lanterns, some torches. The satellite phone would go in the waterproof safe bolted above the floor. Cooking was going to be limited to driftwood fires and gas. Once a week, Glass would return with supplies. Once a day I would check in with him on the sat phone.
At least we seemed to be missing any mosquitoes.
As we tromped to and fro transporting the stuff, I was pleased at her behavior. So far so good. The rainwater tank was filled to the brim from the cyclone.
After a quick swim to wash off sweat, while she waited on the beach, I carried one of the chairs from the hut out onto the little patio. I dumped a sleeping bag on the concrete at the foot of the chair, and sat down to watch the stars come out. The vanishing sun was turning the few clouds pink and orange. Another three quarters of an hour of light perhaps. I’d grabbed a cane from the gear and had balanced it across my legs.
“Sit there. On the bag.”
Her elegance as she sat and folded her legs under her was the natural movement of a young woman. I approved wholeheartedly, especially when she winced as her derriere touched her legs.
“Now, before we eat our gourmet canned soup and bread.” Tomorrow we could sort out more complicated food. There were long-life milk sachets packed away some bloody where. “You are going to strip off that dress and say I am sorry, sir, for being bad today. Then I am going to cane you for that mistake.”
The whine in her throat and her pleading eyes wound up the tension in me. The thought of doing this to her had kept me hard most of the afternoon.
“Now.”
“Pieter –” she blurted.
“An extra two strikes for that.”
“May I –” She swallowed and shut her eyes. “Ask a question, Sir.”
“No. Undress now and say the words, or I will add more strikes.”
Her head bowed then with it still low, she pulled off her dress over her head then dropped it to one side. She rattled out the words. “I’m sorry sir, for being bad.”
Not terribly heartfelt, but a start. I’m getting into your head, girl.
Oh yes. At last. Pretty woman with a bright blue bra and panties set. I reached down and took first one breast then the other in hand, weighing them. Jaz had nice full breasts and there was nothing I would change about her, nothing. Her dark hair swayed across her face.
“Put your head up. I want to see you.”
I used the cane to make her raise her head. There were the tears again, lining her eyelids. Would she ever run out of those? I hoped not. A woman crying was one of the sexiest things in creation.
“Scoop your tits out of your bra and hold them up to me.”
She did
it without hesitation, even if her expression seemed set in stone. I made sure to keep eye contact as I took both nipples in finger and thumb and squeezed them. The abrupt flutter of her eyes and the parting of her lips could hardly be missed except by a blind man. I let go and pulled her up by her upper arms, then treated each nipple to a good long suck. She may have stayed silent but her hips swayed toward me.
Enough with her pleasure.
“Go to your knees facing away then bend over and put your head to the floor. Though her hands clenched into fists and she did a funny little stomp with one foot, she turned and did as I asked. “Tell me, how many strikes do you think you’ve earned?”
Her reply was muffled yet distinct. “None.”
I laughed silently. “I can see you’ve not played this game before. That means I add extra. Especially for that foot stomp.”
I had a try at shifting her panties down with the cane but it wasn’t made for this work. Besides, hands-on was far better. I stood then wriggled her panties down to that exquisite spot where her ass ended and her thighs began – a sweet and cute woman’s bottom with a few small red and blue spots from earlier but nothing much in the way of marks, yet.
I couldn’t cane her every day, but today was number one on the calendar of the training of Jazmine. Though, really, I’d begun at the house. She’d taken to being my submissive from the day I first fucked her.
The rattan cane was nice and whippy. I set out a warning. “Move from your place and I add more.”
The first whack was the beginning of a concerto in cane major. This wasn’t for her, this was for me and the warm-up was near nonexistent. A few taps and I began. Each strike left a welt, and some of the welts would leave bruises. Her little cries and squirms only drove me onward. I counted to fifteen and she hadn’t moved her knees. Impressive.
Jazmine was a smart woman. She was either in subspace from a few hits in or very determined not to earn more blows from the cane.
I went to the front and lowered myself to one knee. “Meisie?”
Her subdued “Mmm,” with her head turned to the side and her lowered eyelids, said subspace.
By her hair, I pulled her up off her knees then I shoved down my shorts. “Open your mouth.” Sliding into her mouth along her tongue then feeling the soft bump at the back, god damn. I half-closed my eyes and shunted in and out accompanied by her hums and gasps as she sucked in more air past my cock.
After making her ass red, I was close, fast. “Stay there.” Having pulled out and released her hair, I walked to her other end and assessed her. Red, red butt up in the air, perfect, and a beautiful wet cunt. This was going to hurt her when I thrust in all the way. Good.
If there was one thing I’d yearned to do today, apart from punish her, it was fuck her properly. I kneeled and probed for her entrance, hearing a small moan when I hit the spot between her pussy lips and entered her to the depth of an inch or two. My next thrust cruised in all the way. Caught in that amazing moment, sunk balls deep inside her, and revved up by her high-pitched squeak, I pushed to seat myself in her pussy. Her moisture slicked my balls. She let out a little grunt and I bent over and kissed her neck.
“You’re as well-lubricated as any whore, girl. Caning gets you horny quickly, doesn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure, but I may have heard a soft curse, so I pulled out and slammed in again, even harder.
Her cry was almost a sigh. Guess she liked it.
“Ja. Fok. Amazing.” I groaned myself, at the same time as her then sank my teeth in her neck muscle and fucked her hard and fast, with the sleeping bag moving back and forth under her clutching hands. As the force of my thrusts escalated into pile driver status, her moans turned into yelps and she reached back to stop me.
“Not happening. Stay the fuck still.” I slapped her ass once and watched her flail around and twist.
Impatience drove me to put her into a headlock with my arm wedged across her throat. That worked, she couldn’t move without me strangling her. That and growling in her ear as I banged her. When I shot my load of cum into her, I could watch her reddened face from an inch away, feel her muscles straining to get loose, and hear her whimpering gasps right up close.
“Seeing you like this. Beautiful.” I licked the side of her face. “Beautiful end to the best fuck ever.”
Best because I’d claimed her with it. I pulled out, keeping her flattened to the floor with my hand planted on her back. I grabbed a wet palm of her juices and my cum from between her legs then smeared it down her back. “Wear that tonight. Tomorrow you can wash it off.”
Chapter 30
I wasn’t sure moving was possible...or allowed.
He’d wrapped me up again in his arms. My underwear were partway up but askew, his cum was on my back and squished between him and me. One of his arms I lay on, the one with the hurt finger, while his top arm was barred across my neck again – like he was scared I’d run.
Which I would, if I had anywhere to go, just on principal, even though the pain left me lazy as a cat on a window sill in the sun.
My butt and between my legs throbbed where he pressed into me and where his thigh pushed mine apart. Sleepily, I eyed the arm beneath my chin. Licking his biceps was a craving I had to suppress. The taste alone would get me off.
Men. So dirty. So primal. I could smell us both. With every inhalation, the tang in my nostrils reminded me of the sex he’d just forced on me. My apartment was kept so clean I refused to let my friend, Lani, bring her new puppy inside for fear it would pee on the carpet.
I could ask to get clean. Say please Sir may I. The very notion was demeaning and I had no way around it without getting my ass turned even sorer than it was now. Plus he’d say no. So how was it that I felt so right here, with him closer than even my gynecologist had been?
Stockholm syndrome, I reminded myself, like a scratched disc on a repeating loop.
I frowned. Inside his arms was an awesome place to be. I was such a slut. Every time he did mean things to me, made me take what he did, even if it hurt, I loved it, maybe more so if it hurt.
Okay, I accepted that. Didn’t mean I wanted to stay his little damn slave.
Where and how could I get away? Was it possible?
Fly? Sure, I’d magic up a plane. Swim? Haha. Sharks and, yeah, I was a super woman. A boat? Maybe. If there was one here. The best possibility was that sat phone he’d mentioned. I’d need to get into that safe and to have it to myself long enough to contact someone.
“Let’s get some food.”
He removed his arm and I rolled onto my back then tried to rise. His broad foot came down on my neck, just resting there. I swallowed, worried about what he intended.
“Decided you can stay there.” In the fading light, his eyes were dark behind that curtain of his salt-thickened hair. From his shorts, he fished a chain link leash and he knelt to click it onto my collar then stuck the other end, the loop, under the chair leg. As if I were too stupid to get it out from under there.
I didn’t dare say anything, only lay on my back waiting permission to rise.
“Good.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling my bared breasts press into the rolled-down cups.
His gaze cruised down me. “Stay there until I say to move.”
I could have fought but like him at the House, I needed to conserve my energy. He’d once told me he hadn’t fought back because it was clearly useless, a waste of energy, and likely to get him hurt when he needed to be healthy. Two could play at that.
I could play a waiting game.
The haze from the caning was fading, though it left me prone to despair.
The last possibility for escape, the one I tried not to think about, was to wait until we left the island, even if it meant being his kitty, his bed toy, and his precious piñata. But this last option for escape scared me, because already I could see the break between the old me and the one here, now, on this island. I’d changed.
“Mmm. I like seeing you down
there. You are showing me stuff about myself I never knew was there. I don’t think I could fokken well ever go back after having you. There’s something pure about owning someone...or you, at least.”
His words seemed to echo my own thoughts and I lay there a little shocked. He sat down and put his feet on my side and smiled, as if to say, you are worthy of being my footrest.
Confusion – that was the summation of my thoughts.
Resisting wasn’t worth it? The problem was I could see the allure of being his toy taking me over if I left it unchecked. Kneeling, not speaking, obeying, it dulled the mind. I had to keep myself thinking. What was his motto? I’d have my own.
No giving in. Yes.
No giving in could sustain me until I found my way out. I’d be meek, pliable, his, I’d kneel and be his footrest but I’d still remember to be me. I’d lull him into a state of vulnerability.
Another option came to me. The rifle I’d seen him carry into the hut. I could kill him if I got hold of it. Could I kill? Maybe. But did I want to?
“What are you thinking?” He peered down at me.
“Nothing, Sir.” I blinked innocently.
“Ja. That’s good then. I believe the sun rises in the west too. Sit up and kneel. I’m getting our dinner.”
Wary, I did so. When he returned with two bowls of soup and some bread then put a bowl down before me, and the other on an upturned box next to his chair, I wasn’t sure what he intended.
“Eat.”
No spoon? I looked from the bowl to his hand and the bread he carried.
The chair creaked as he sat. Then he leaned sideways to tip up the chair and free my leash from the leg.
“Go on. I want to see you lick it up. Be good. When you want bread, nudge my hand.” He smiled but there was a dark glitter in his eyes, as if he expected a challenge.
Seize me From Darkness (Pierced Hearts Book 4) Page 19
