by Linnea May
But I don't care about that right now.
What I care about is her. Little Button, trembling next to me as we step inside the penthouse. She's so responsive to me, even when I'm not actually doing anything to her. A short look, or even a gesture as simple as touching her hand, can be enough to cause her cheeks to blossom in that cute red tone. Blushing suits her, and I don't think she knows it.
The doors of the elevator close behind us, and I watch her flinch in front of me before turning around to look at me with an expectant expression. She doesn't look afraid, like most other girls, but instead she’s filled with anticipation.
I thought I would let her strip again, but then I decide against it, now that I see her standing before me like this. I've been waiting for so long. Different scenarios for the night were flashing through my head all evening during dinner. We spent almost three hours in that restaurant, something that took me by surprise. It didn't feel anywhere near that long, not at all. It didn't even feel like half that amount of time.
The minutes grew longer once I'd decided what I wanted to do with her once we got back to the penthouse, and my body started craving her, visibly. It's true what I told her. Impatience isn't my strong suit, but I have learned to control it in a way that makes it seem like it is.
She welcomes me with a hungry moan when I close in on her, pulling her into a tight embrace and claiming her with a passionate kiss. This kiss will tell her everything. It will tell her how much I need her, how much I crave finally being buried deep inside her, and how I intend to make this the night when she truly becomes mine.
Our lips don't part when I start removing the clothes off of her body. She raises her hands to do the same with me, but I hold her back by grabbing her wrists and pushing her hands back down. She groans in protest, but lets it happen. I break our kiss and pull her blouse over her head, leaving her long hair in a rumpled mess. I noticed that she didn't wear it tied back in a ponytail when we went out to eat, and I appreciated the effort.
"Always need to be in control, don't you?" she breathes, casting me a smile that speaks simultaneously of confidence and coyness.
"Yes."
I don't say anything else to her cheeky question, but continue to undress her by removing her bra and jeans next. She's standing before me wearing nothing but a little black lacy thong. I take a step back to admire the view: she’s standing there with her chest heaving, her chin jutted forward, and the hint of a smile on her face. Her nipples are hard, standing erect and confiding her excitement.
"Are you wet for me?"
There it is again, that beautiful red flush painted all over her cheeks. Her eyes widen in shame, but only for a split second before she regains composure.
She doesn't give me an answer.
"Button, answer me. Are you wet for me?"
She presses her lips together and fixates on me through narrowed eyes. "Why don't you find out yourself?"
Seriously, this girl. She doesn't know what it means to be a submissive. The seed is planted inside her, the trait apparent, but no one has ever taught her to grow into the role the way she should.
Her eyes flicker with excitement when I lift my hands, expecting me to lay them on her again. But I have no intention of following her suggestion. Instead, I begin to open the knot of my tie.
"Touch yourself," I tell her.
She lets out a gasp, followed by a puzzled face.
"You heard me," I say. "Watch me undress and touch yourself while you do it."
Protest is dancing on the tip of her tongue, but she holds back. I begin to unbutton my shirt and jut my chin toward her, beckoning her to follow my command. "I'm not going to say it again, Button."
She takes a deep breath and slowly lifts her right hand, moving it up to her collar bone while her mouth opens ever so slightly. I remove my shirt and watch while her hand travels down her torso, outlining the shape of her breast, moving down to her belly and drawing a little circle on her mound before she reaches her sex. Her eyes are on me, observing while I watch her hand moving further, now hiding underneath the fabric of her thong. She sighs when she reaches her core and moves her fingers between her lips.
"Good girl."
My praise eggs her on. She opens her mouth and moans while her fingers move at her center, drawing circles around her clit.
Good girls deserve a reward. So I give her something to look at while she obediently pleasures herself in front of me. I expose my chest, sculpted over years of hard work. The appreciative look on her face is the sexiest thing I've seen in a long time, only topped by the way she licks her lips when I unbuckle my belt. I pull the belt out of my suit pants in one quick motion, knowing that I will be using it on her later.
"Don't stop," I tell her, and then I step closer, closing the belt around her neck. I pull it through the clasp, but don't close it, just letting it hang loosely around her neck before putting a little distance between us and continue undressing myself.
Her eyes light up when I step out of my pants and have nothing on but the black briefs that’s hiding my growing bulge.
"Do you like what you see?" I ask her.
She nods. "I would like to see more."
"That can be arranged if you ask properly, Button."
She sighs, and I'm not sure if it's because of her growing arousal as she massages her clit, or because my words annoy her. If it's the latter, things may take an unpleasant turn from here on out.
But she catches herself just in time, making sure that she's in my good books by choosing the right words.
"Please, I'd like to see more, Sir."
I smile at her. "Good girl. Very good girl."
The hint of a smile plays at the corners of her mouth as she receives my compliment.
"But I like for things to be fair, tit for tat," I say next. "You'll have to earn it."
Instinct urges her to roll her eyes at me, but she's smart enough to withstand the reflex and opts for a more promising action: slipping out of her thong. I can see it sticking to her center before she pulls it down her legs, treacherous little thing.
She straightens up and continues to touch herself without me having to ask her to. Mischief is underlining the smile she casts at me now.
"Good girl."
"Good girls get rewards."
I nod. "They do."
The smile on her face widens when I expose my erection before her eyes by pulling down the briefs. I quickly step out of them, stroking my length while her hungry gaze rests upon me.
"Get down on your knees."
She doesn't hesitate to obey, sinking down on her knees in an instant, and I take a few steps backwards to put more room between us.
"Now come crawling to me, on all fours."
Her eyes dart up to mine for a split second, asking for confirmation. I bet she has never even thought about crawling in front of a man, naked, with his belt hanging around her neck as if it was her leash. But whatever is going through her head right now, she doesn't give voice to it, instead complying with my wish. She comes crawling up to me, hollowing her back, because she knows her ass looks better this way.
She sits back on her heels once she's reached me, tilting her head back into her neck and looking up at me with expectation, waiting for another command. She's such a quick learner.
I want to give her another order, but instead of leading her verbally, I choose the physical route and lean down to reach for my belt. She mewls when I pull on it, the leather closing around her neck and forcing her to come up on her knees. She opens her mouth just in time to take me in, supporting herself with her hands on my thighs while I pull her forward, forcing my cock between her lips. I let go of the belt, loosening the loop around her neck, and then I place my hand at the back of her head and push her forward until she begins to choke.
"Suck on it," I hiss with urgency. "Show me what a good cock sucker you are."
And then she does. As soon as I let go of her, she takes charges, sucking on my cock as if she's
been starving for it. I groan, removing both my hands and letting her continue all on her own. She reaches up with her right hand, her fingers barely touching, as she closes them around my hardness while continuing to suck the hell out of it. Her lips wrap around me with pressure of varying degrees, while her tongue travels along my lower shaft. Her grip around me tightens before she retreats, her eyes resting on my length and girth. And then she looks up at me with adoration.
"I can't wait to have you inside me," she breathes. "Sir."
Chapter 20
Ann
I knew that would do it. I knew he needed to hear me say something like that, so I could finally get my wish. What we've been doing so far was fun. Strange, new, and somewhat humiliating, but incredibly exciting nonetheless.
But I want more. I want something else.
I want him to finally fuck me.
That wish only intensified when I saw him undressed in front of me for the first time. His chiseled physique was too much. He looks like a fucking god, with his hard muscles and strong stance, flexing with every move he takes. He's slightly tanned, but not overly so, matching his brown hair and his dark brown eyes, and his chest is almost completely void of hair, with nothing hiding the hard outlines of his sculpted muscles underneath.
He's perfection. And - to be quite frank - so is his cock.
The way my heart jumped when I tried to close my fingers around his girth was another new sensation for me. I've never been this excited about a man's member. The way he groaned when I sucked him in filled me with pride and satisfaction, but it's nothing compared to the flicker in his eyes when I tell him those words.
"I can't wait to have you inside me, Sir."
He needed that last word for it to work, but the effect is undeniable. Lust flickers in his eyes, revealing a shared desire.
But his words speak a different language.
"Have you ever been spanked before, Button?"
I don't know what to tell him. Have I ever been spanked before? Indeed, I have. But probably not in the way he's asking about right now.
I shake my head. "I don't think so, Sir."
He huffs. "You don't think so?"
"No. I haven't."
"Well, today you've earned your first," he announces.
He leaves me no time to react to his words, but forces me to follow him by pulling on the belt. The more I fight it, the tighter the leather closes in around my neck, almost choking me. I have no time to get back on my feet, but apparently, that's not expected of me anyway. He drags me behind him, pulling at the belt and using it as a leash to force me to follow him on all fours, as if I was his pet.
I want to protest, but am too busy trying to keep my balance and make sure I don't move too slowly, so the belt doesn't choke me too much. He leads me toward the stairs and tells me to get up on my feet as we reach them. I obey, just to be dragged up the staircase with similar harshness as I was dragged along the floor before.
To my surprise, he doesn't lead me to my bedroom, but approaches one of the doors that are always locked. I never knew which one was his office and which one was the bedroom, but as it turns out, his office is at the far end of the hallway. He's leading me through the other one, on the right side and diagonally opposite my bedroom.
There's no conventional lock on the door, but a little display where one has to enter a code of numbers to enter the room. He places himself in front of me so I can't see him typing it in, before I hear the lock clicking and then he opens the door.
"Back down on your knees," he says, before letting me inside. "You'll always be on your knees in this room. Understood?"
I nod as I obey his order and get down on my knees at the doorstep. A strong yank on the belt reminds me to speak.
"Yes, Sir. Understood!"
"I don't like that tone."
I know he doesn't, but it couldn't be helped with the way he was choking me by tightening that damn belt around my throat.
He leads me inside, not pulling this time, and letting me move at my own speed. I'm down on all fours, curiously lifting my eyes as we enter the room I've been so curious about since moving in. It looks very different from the room he prepared for me. While my bedroom is painted light colors, exhibiting tones of pastel white and lavender with matching furniture and fluffy pillows, this room is a stark contrast with its gray walls, the black bed frame, and the steel-colored furniture.
The room is also a lot bigger than mine and features more than just a bed and a dresser. There's a glass cabinet to my right that catches my attention right away. It's filled with whips, leather strings, gag balls, and other utensils that are clearly sex toys.
"Look at me."
His voice is harsh and unyielding, causing me to flinch before I comply and turn my attention back to him. He's towering before me, still sporting an impressive erection and looking down at me with a serious expression that allows no further transgressions.
"Climb on the bed."
He yanks the belt to my left, beckoning me to climb onto the king-size canopy bed. I do as I'm told, relishing the feeling of luxurious silk sheets under my palms and knees.
"Move to the head of the bed, on your knees, close to this side," he commands. "Hold on to the headboard and hollow your back for me. Show me that pretty ass."
I cast him a quick look, reaffirming his very specific order. He juts his chin forward and beckons me to comply. So I do, crawling up to the head of the bed and holding on to the black frame at the headboard while distending my ass and hollowing my back for him.
He walks alongside the bed, closing in on me and leaning over to remove the belt from around my neck. I'm half relieved and half frightened, because I have a suspicion about what his next move will be.
"Three transgressions," he says, still standing next to the bed. "Eye rolling. Correcting me in front of my subordinates. Raising your voice against me."
I'm trembling, unsure whether he wants me to say anything or not.
"We'll start you off slow. Two spankings for each transgression. Six in total."
That doesn't sound too bad, is what I think at first, not taking into account that I've never been spanked with a belt before. I've never been really spanked, period, not like this.
And I had no idea how much it would hurt.
I yelp out in surprise and pain as the first blow hits my skin. I lose control for a second and let go of the bed frame, instinctively covering my back to protect myself, but he won't have it. He reaches for my wrist, closing his hand around it in a tight grip and moving it back to the front.
"Don't move," he says. "You brought this on yourself, Button. Now be strong enough to take it."
I glare at him, but follow his command. I can do this. I know I can.
The second blow brings tears to my eyes, but I'm too stubborn to let out another sound. The pain is more than I thought I could handle, way more. But I know it's only the beginning.
And I'm handling it.
Blows three and four come in quick succession, leaving me little time in between to breathe or process the pain. I couldn't help but shriek out when the fifth strike cuts into my flesh, as I'm still burning with the bruising pain inflicted from the ones before.
I'm shivering, sweat is pearling down my spine and at my temples, trying to cool the heat of agony that the belt has caused. My hands hold on to the black steel frame of the bed as if I'm holding on for dear life, my head low and my hair sticking to the side of my face and my damp back.
"Fucking beautiful." I hear his voice coming from far away.
I flinch when he drapes the belt across my back, gently stroking along my tortured skin while I tremble with anticipation.
And then something weird happens.
It feels good. Very good.
I no longer feel a burning sting, robbing me of my senses. Instead, it has turned into a warm throbbing, exhilarating and calming at the same time.
"What the...."
My voice breaks when I feel his hand be
tween my legs, sliding between my lips with ease, a treacherous slick sound revealing my arousal.
"Enjoying your punishment, aren't you, Button?"
I close my eyes in shame and reply with nothing but an angry growl. Why does he always have to point these things out? Why does he enjoy making me feel this way?
"We're not done," I hiss. "You missed one."
"Oh, I didn't miss it. Don't you worry."
I groan in disappointment when he withdraws his hand. He walks around to the other side of the bed and climbs on top of it, placing himself diagonally behind my ass. I dare a quick look over my shoulder to see what he might be up to, and see him on his knees, holding the belt in one hand while stroking his hardened length with the other.
"Eyes forward, Button."
I pull my gaze away from him, facing the headboard in front of me. Again, I can feel the leather draping across my skin, this time drawing circles on my bruised ass. I mewl, even though the burn doesn't feel bad at all. It fuels my excitement, and I hollow my back, sticking out my ass to let him know that I'm ready. I can take this last one. I want it. I crave it.
Doubts hit me when the blow finally comes, sending an agonizing sting all the way up to my spine. I howl out in pain, and before I can find a moment to recover from the pain, I'm blindsided by his iron-hard cock stretching me as he shoves himself inside of me with one brute thrust. He groans in relish, digging his hand into my burning skin, as he rams himself inside of me. I knew he was big, I could barely get my hand around him. But this feels like so much more. He feels huge, and I'm no longer groaning because of the ache his spankings caused me, but because of the way he stretches me with his enormity. He's relentless, too. I can barely hold on to the headboard as he fucks me like a savage, ramming his length in and out of me in an animalistic assault.
I groan a complaint when he withdraws, turning around to him with an angry glare. But he leaves me no time to voice my dissatisfaction. I'm swung around on my back in no time, his hands pushing up my legs as he stretches my pussy anew, except now facing me. His face is different, almost scary. Dark lines mark his expression and his eyes, his eyes. There's a glare in them that I haven't seen before. A wild, furious, burning flame.
