Page 30 of Red Flag Bull

Jason King wasn’t lying to me. He’s progressed from a little choking, bondage, and spanking to full-blown dungeon torture.

He shrugs me from his shoulder and sets me on my feet, before ripping open my jeans. The dispatched button falls to the floor and bounces under the nearest padded bench, and my heart is in my throat as he wrenches my pants down my legs.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he rumbles.

“Yes,” I squeak. “Do you?”

“You think I could ever forget?” Jason grips the back of my neck and thrusts my head forward, over the nearest bench. “Knees.”

I do as he’s ordered, and he yanks my hands out and locks them into a set of leather cuffs, which are chained to the floor under the bench. He pulls the slack from the chain and secures it, to make escape impossible, then he stalks back and forth in front of the daunting collection of whips, crops, belts, canes, and other items made to inflict pain.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This is what I wanted. What I need. I lift my chin and stare straight ahead, waiting patiently until he reaches for his weapon of choice.

“You let your sister take my name,” he says, taking a studded wooded paddle from the wall.

I nod and choke back a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be.” He comes to stand over me. He runs his flat hand over the smooth metal studs, and then smacks it on his palm in front of my face before moving away again.

“You let her treat you like shit,” he says from behind me.

“Because I am shit.”

The paddle slaps against my bare ass with a sting that takes my breath. It’s a short-lived pain that leaves me achy and restless, as I breathe through it.

“Don’t you dare say that to me ever again,” he says as the throbbing heat sets my ass cheeks on fire.

I sniff as I nod. “I won’t.”

Jason presses the end of the paddle to the base of my neck, and then drags it down my spine, pausing at the top of my ass. “You promised to be mine, and then you ran away and let other men use you and fuck you and treat you like a whore — probably sold yourself for as little as a smile. You think that was them being nice to you?”

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “There’s something wrong with me. I know.”

He grunts and glides the flat back of the paddle down my ass, to rest it against my pussy. “What’s wrong is that you believe all the lies, and you think your pretty little cunt is all you have to offer.” He gives me three quick spanks, right on the pussy, but it does the opposite of hurt. It feels incredible, and when the paddle slaps my sex again, it sounds wet with my desire.

“Look at that,” he says, almost reverently.

The tip of the paddle slips between my folds, and he slides it back and forth in my slick, probing the big, blunt edge at my entrance, as if he may fuck me with the thing.

I rock my ass, to feel it move with me.

“Mmm… Do you get this wet for the liars, Amanda? No wonder they can sniff you out as an easy fuck.”

I stop trying to fuck his paddle. “I’m not an easy fuck.”

He comes in close, forces my hips hard against the bench, and shoves his fat cock inside me so roughly, I cry out.

Stretched to my limits, I gasp for breath and beg my body to adjust, but there’s no time for that.

“Are you sure?” He slams into me again and again, until my chains are rattling. “Feels pretty easy to me.”

His next thrust forces the air from my lungs.

He pulls out and smacks the paddle against my pussy perfectly. The hot sting radiates from the impact and joins the empty ache his cock left behind, until I’m throbbing inside and out with need. If he edges me to the point of frustration and stops again, I’m going to scream.

He strikes my pussy twice with his flat palm, and when he places an expert slap on my clit with the pads of his fingers, I lower my head and moan, as my core shudders and zings.

Jason tugs my head back up by my hair and holds his hand in front of my face, so I can see my juices splattered over his skin. “Lick it clean.”

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