Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories

by Sierra Cartwright

  Bliss – an intensity of sensation sparked across her skin and she inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. When her eyelids drifted apart, she saw how he’d watched her reaction and the mild shock on his face.

  “What are you?”

  Such a quiet question. He was puzzled. He suspected she wasn’t normal.

  She hummed and nudged his hand, hoping. And so it began.

  At first, he only ran his knuckle lightly down her cheek. She trembled and he grew bolder.

  Sometimes, he held both her hands. Sometimes he released them to caress her shoulder, her neck, or to feel her hair. Once, he traced her eyebrows, but he always picked up her hand again, as if the need for contact was there for him also. When he had her hand, he would massage her there with his fingers and thumb, as if waiting for her to recover her senses.

  She didn’t protest because this was a time of awakening for her. Feelings arose and lingered and built. Waves of cool shivers made her skin hypersensitive to the next caress. The pulse of her blood became louder, more insistent. She sighed when he ran his fingers through her short hair. She half shut her eyes when he spent time playing with her lips. The more she stayed quiet and let him handle her, the slower his caresses became and the more this agonized her, because she yearned for more.

  She knew this was novel to her, the same as she knew she had a past, even if she recalled little.

  So many things she knew, and yet did not know.

  She was here to set things right and he, this Adam, was the pivot upon which all else hung.

  She had a glorious bank of information at her fingertips within her mind, and yet could not access it.

  She’d seen many naked people and men before and never blinked, and she remembered none of them. She’d never blinked, except for when confronted by him and his arousal. The shaft of his manhood had fascinated her...and she knew not why.

  She’d eaten and drunk today and that was also new. She’d used a toilet and, miracle of miracles, found herself equipped with female anatomy. That was definitely new. Putting her hand there had made her mouth fall open at the ripple of pleasure and she’d wondered how Adam’s hand there would feel. Or his mouth.

  Sex, she’d seen sex before and never participated.

  She was here for penance, but Adam’s penance was surely not the penance those who’d sent her here intended. That intrigued and appalled her. She must be careful not to overstep.

  There was a hunger in his eyes for her that said he was dangerous.

  She prayed his penance would satisfy her remorse, but a need spread from that small place between her legs, consuming her thoughts.

  His touch was setting her afire.

  This was not why she was here.

  “You are exquisite,” he whispered. For the first time, he ventured to brush his fingers beneath her breasts. When she registered that, she grew so confused her heart seemed to stop, for a moment, just a tiny moment.

  Panic froze her.

  “You’re a woman, and yet...more than that.” He traced the curve of each breast through the cloth of her shirt, slowly, deliberately, pressing upward so they shifted, while he watched her to see what she might do.

  Be still, she told herself, but she couldn’t help squirming.

  He smiled.

  She wanted to pull his hand downward to lay his palm upon that place below: his heat on her heat. Wait, no. She should pull away his hands.

  Then she broke and tried.

  “No.” He grasped and squeezed her breasts.

  She stopped, horrified. Slowly, she lowered her arm.

  “Good.”

  Good was her not stopping him? Or had she meant to make him do more lewd things to her? She wasn’t sure. Her world was upside down.

  She quivered, torn.

  Again he took her hands in his, but he slid his grip down until he held her wrists. She could feel the strength there, see a new wildness in him.

  “What will I do with you? What should I do?”

  Oh, she was dying to find out. If she didn’t encourage him, would that mean there was no sin in whatever happened?

  His thumbs drew small, insistent circles on her flesh that somehow drew lines of tension through her arms to her head, then down to between her legs, as if he’d knotted and tied her to him. With each circle of his thumbs the tension tightened.

  Was moaning a social rudeness like watching him bathe had been? She struggled to stop herself.

  “Did you know you cut your neck with my knife?”

  Ahnyil blinked, then she shook her head.

  “You did. That’s when I knew I should punish you...because...you needed it.” The pauses between his words were thick with some meaning she couldn’t interpret.

  “Mmm.” His voice mesmerized her.

  Run away. Go.

  She couldn’t.

  “You said it was penance: cutting your hair. Was that all you wanted penance for?”

  He knew. That was fascinating, that he understood her at a depth of her consciousness that she herself was troubled by.

  “Were there other reasons?”

  She nodded, hesitant.

  “Let me guess.” He lowered his head and tightened his hands on her wrists yet again. “Going by what else you’ve said today, you don’t know those other reasons?”

  “No.” A sting at her eyes heralded sadness. There it was, an infinitesimal fear lurking, ever-present. Something was there, in her head. Hidden secrets.

  “Well then,” he rasped. “I’m going to punish you for cutting yourself and for cutting your hair without asking me...” His voice hardened on his last few words, and he paused, eyes fierce, as if expecting her to protest, but she only listened, enthralled and a little excited. “And also, I’m going to hurt you for whatever this other thing is that you needed penance for.”

  Did he know he’d said hurt?

  He paused again and she watched him suck in air through his teeth. “Tell me no, if you need to.”

  “You say...hurt?”

  “I did? Yes, I guess I did.” His smile became calculating. “My penance will hurt. Understand?”

  Hurting was appropriate. His penance would be a blessing, surely? “Yes.”

  Adam swallowed. “After that, you can be done. Forget your wrongs. Square one. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Back to square one. It spoke of purity.

  “I was going to have you stay there, on the floor, but I want you here, over my lap, facedown.”

  She eyed Adam. Facedown and on him? That was more intimate than she’d expected.

  Then he pulled on her hand and she rose and stepped closer, one step, two, wondering what he intended and alive with the promise in his words.

  “Here, Ahnyil.” He shifted back and waited, patient, yet ominous. Looking at his manhood was not the same as lying on top of it. He’d said she couldn’t touch him and she understood now how rude that had been.

  This was foreign territory. A man’s lap. Very well. She’d never lacked for courage.

  She ended up with her face inches from the softness of the blue sofa. She could hear the harsh sounds as she breathed, feel the give of the upholstery under her forearms and the length of his maleness pressing into her side. His palm rested on her back.

  When he raised his other hand, she could tell. The air seemed to crackle with a fierce energy, and from the corners of her eyes, she saw the walls loom. Darkness sneaked in and waited, as if they perched on the edge of something...fateful.

  “I can feel that. Like a storm coming. It’s you, isn’t it?” He sighed. “I felt it before.” He bent over her, his mouth at her ear as he said his next words. “You’re not a just a woman, are you, Ahnyil?”

  His warm breath filtered in, over more than skin, sifting into her thoughts. A man, breathing on her. She shivered. “I don’t know what I am.”

  “If I hit you, will bad things happen?”

  “I don’t think so?” Why did he ask these unanswerable questions?
“This is penance?”

  “Not yet. Are you something dangerous?”

  At last, she knew this one. “Yes.”

  He paused, then he nipped her ear and she shuddered, caught. “You know what? I don’t give a fuck if you are.”

  Fuck, the word had slithered from her long-lost memory bank, like a snake from a garden.

  His rumbled words and his biting her ear gave rise to a new, wonderful sensation and another word fell into her vocabulary: pussy. Her pussy leaked moisture from her lower lips.

  Why?

  He wriggled the shorts she wore low, then lower, until he’d exposed her ass. The air cooling her moisture told her how much he could see.

  The first blow landed on her ass, a minor explosion of hurt, and everything changed.

  Violence – one on one, skin to skin, violence.

  It rocked her, left her gasping, left a sting. Like never before she connected to someone. How could she not. Seeing, hearing – these were inferior senses.

  Inflict pain on another and there, then, you have their complete attention. You’re almost inside them. Yes. Oh yes.

  Penance, it was wonderful penance.

  Another hit made her squirm until he made her be still. Another. Then another.

  She hurt. The pain throbbed and screamed outward. Every callus on his hand seemed to leave their imprint on her. She reveled in it all. This was penance like no other.

  Then he stopped, panting – both of them were panting. Stunned, she felt his hand settle over her ass with him resting one finger beside the lips of her pussy. A second later, he bumped that finger over those swollen lips, slipping it from side to side on her plentiful moisture then going back to nestle it in the groove. The entrance to her body lay there and she tightened and her back arched.

  “May I finger fuck you?”

  The question surprised her. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but suspected. No was the right answer but having that finger down there, it distracted her. Her grunted yes was said before she knew it.

  His finger was in her even faster and she squeaked and slapped her palms to the sofa, taking handholds as her butt rose, striving all by itself for more of that unusual pleasure.

  “Fuck, you’re tight. One is enough.”

  She’d said yes. Why oh why had she done that? Her regrets dwindled as he speared that small part of himself deeper into her. Eyes shut, she wriggled on the sofa then reached back to grab his hand, only to have him capture hers.

  Again with him leaning down to eye her. She peeked back, trying not to drool as his invading finger made some muscle she never knew she had spasm inward.

  “I’ve got my finger in your cunt,” he said, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “I have to say, I’m only asking because this is our first time. Stay with me and I will be taking without asking in future. I only brake for noes, if we’ve decided to allow them, which,” he nodded, “they are still allowed. Otherwise, all that works is whatever word you give me that means no. It’s called a safeword.”

  “What?” Open-mouthed, she blinked back. A spot of sweat meandered over her forehead as he delved farther into her...cunt. “I...”

  “You look flustered.” He grinned malevolently. “No will do, for now.”

  Then he stuck that single finger so far in her eyes rolled up and she made a small choked noise. Then he stopped. She flailed back there with her hand again, searching, wanting to direct what he did. “More.”

  “Uh-uh.” At that he brought her hands together and held them at her back, encircled by his fingers.

  Being made to sit still kicked her brain into gear again. She’d trespassed into forbidden territory with that yes.

  What would become of her? His next words shoved such worries to the background

  “I do love to tie up my women.”

  Her eyes sprang open and she searched his face.

  “I like to tie them up and I like to hurt them so they like it too, especially the ones new to kink, but you, you are different. This sounds crazy, even to me. I know what you are. I could feel it when I spanked you. The marks on your back and your amnesia...where and how I found you... When I hit you, I knew, I saw –”

  “What am I?”

  He ceased to talk and she felt panic rising again.

  “You don’t know, Ahnyil?”

  “No.” He must tell her. “Please?”

  “I guess, I could. If you’re very, very good for me, after I have you...”

  Have you what?

  Without missing more than a beat of time, he switched the finger inside her for his thumb – it sank in, squeezing past her resistance, and she discovered the pleasures of his thumb fucking her while his fingers played with her...? Clitoris.

  Today was a day for new words.

  She squealed, shocked into arousal. He invaded her body and how little she could do to stop him. How little she wanted to.

  That he kept it up, over and over, rhythmically pressing, pressing, while his thumb slicked in and out of her entrance, and his words murmured into her, and his hand held hers in place so she couldn’t escape – it rolled in and together, fusing. It swept her away with the fury of a thunderstorm. Mindless, she arched, moaning until she collapsed, wrecked and limp. She panted into the sofa. She was sure the teeth marks and drool on the fabric before her were from her own mouth.

  Was this how people felt when they fucked? No wonder they did it so often.

  “Well, girl,” he said, amused from the tone of his voice. “I’ve made you come. I think we’re formally introduced. I think you should meet my cock next, Ahnyil. Properly.”

  Then he let go of her wrists and turned her over until she was looking up at him. Her arms were above her head, but she didn’t have the energy to rearrange herself.

  He chuckled then carefully wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “I guess you liked that.”

  “Now, you tell me what I am.”

  “No. Not yet.” Adam put his palm on her forehead and stroked back her hair. “I said you had to let me have you.”

  “You did not have me? Just now?”

  “That? That, my beautiful creature, was me making you come. Having you means putting my cock into you...” He combed his fingers deep into her hair until they locked there and he tilted back her head. “And fucking you with it.”

  “Oh.” Wide-eyed, she stared at him. Her pussy had awakened at his words and squeezed inward, releasing a thrill of pleasure. Which reminded her of what it felt like to come. Did her pussy know more than she did? It seemed to want her to do this.

  “Wait, wait.” She shuffled through ideas and random words. “This, it is blackmail?”

  He grinned. “If you don’t want this, it might be.”

  “Is fucking a sin?”

  “Never.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Her curiosity lured her onward. Lip caught in her teeth, she tried to nod but found herself still pinned down.

  “Was that a nod?”

  She gulped. “Yes?”

  “Good.”

  Then he picked her up and undressed her fully, and carried her to his bedroom where he gently deposited her on his bed, on her back, with her knees bent and dangling over the edge. He pushed on her thighs until she spread her legs and then he stood there, only looking at her, for a minute or two.

  Then he climbed over her and rested his forearm on the quilt beside her with one leg between hers, making the bed shift. His face was inches away.

  She was naked. Being naked and beneath him made her both uneasy and something else she wasn’t sure of. Dark eyebrows, wavy dark hair, and his other hand was on her thigh. If she shifted, her breasts would touch him. Though she suspected she was stronger than a woman should be, Adam seemed big enough to squash her.

  “I like,” he said, very slowly, as if to make sure she missed nothing. “To sometimes be rough. Pretend and also not pretend. You remember how to say no?” His eyebrow tweaked up
.

  “No?”

  “That’s it. Use it, if I worry you too much. I will go slow.”

  “Will this hurt me?” The last hurt had been exhilarating.

  “A little, perhaps. I think it will be unavoidable.”

  “Oh. I don’t mind. Hurting is perhaps my natural, ummm, environment.” This was one of those things she thought she knew.

  Blinking, she inhaled and smelled him. He showed her his teeth then. Not a smile, teeth. Perhaps he knew how his scent affected her? Perhaps this was the start of his roughness, as he called it?

  “Stay there while I undress. I’m going to fuck you now, how I like to. Be good and don’t move a single damn muscle.”

  Those words nailed her in place and made her throat close in. She didn’t want to move because he actually frightened her, but, and this was the odd thing, it seemed to attract her, as if she wanted him to scare her. Just a little scariness made him seem bigger, meaner, and more something else.

  Male. Yes. She was female, he was male, and he was going to...fuck her.

  She wondered if her curiosity and impulses had put her in danger. Her pussy was making her crave him touching her there again. She wanted to touch herself, but she didn’t. He’d told her to be still.

  He’d thrown aside the last item of his clothes and now he turned to her.

  His manhood.

  Her gaze was riveted to the sight of it. His cock was far stiffer than she recalled and bounced as he turned. The tip glistened.

  “You were very, very good. You stayed quiet and didn’t move.”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned over her again, pushing her thighs even farther apart with his body. His cock pressed into her near her entrance but not quite in the right place. If his finger and thumb had felt good, would that be better? Frustrated, she made a small noise and wriggled.

  “Shhh. Soon, Ahnyil.” He kissed her then, with his hands cradling each side of her face.

  She attempted to reach up to him he snapped out a no and she subsided.

  “Next time you do that, I will tie them down, tight. Keep them on the fucking bed.”

  The use of fucking for emphasis made her heart pound. Threat, it was a threat. She shivered then nodded. Her clitoris tightened and so did her nipples. She found two handfuls of the quilt and wrapped her fingers into the material. Adam’s threats were interesting.