Page 133 of Mob Princess

“Widen your feet.”

She obeys immediately. She glances down to her cunt, so it makes her shriek when I land the crop on her left tit. I set a pattern she can’t predict as I smack her tits, arse, and cunt. I watch the clock on my bedside table, doing this for a minute. I toss the crop onto the bed and untie the ropes. I’m gentle as I move her arms, ensuring they don’t grow stiff. I keep the pressure light as I massage her breasts as the full circulation pours back into them.

“How do you feel?”

“Like this can’t be done, Daddy.”

“Not nearly, cailín.”

She breathes easier. I don’t know if she wants this sexually, or she doesn’t believe the punishment is enough. I kiss her temple because I’m proud of how she’s taking this, and I need the moment of affection. She turns her head, and we exchange a light kiss. I wouldn’t do this with a sub. It is—it was—a different mindset with a sub. I love Lina. I’m certain of it. Would most people question my feelings because they’ve developed so quickly? We’ve known each other nearly three months.

Dillan’s sister, Colleen, loved romance novels. She schooled all of us when we teased her about them. If my relationship with Lina were a story, Colleen might have called it instalove. Instalust for sure. But time takes on a different meaning in this world when permanence can last only hours. Where I’m old at thirty-one. I know plenty of men who haven’t made it to this age. Some of my bullet and knife wounds threatened to take me to hell much younger. A minute is an hour, an hour is a day, a day is a lifetime.

“Climb on the bed and lie on your side, arms in front of you.”

I’ve given what comes next plenty of daydreaming. I tested it to make sure the logistics work with a few hard tugs. I lift her top leg and bend it, so her left instep rests on the inside of her right knee. I wrap the rope around her legs several times, binding the length of her thigh to her calf. I ease her top knee back to widen the gap between her legs. I step back and toss the remaining rope over my curtain rod, tying the ends to the rope that stretches in the air.

“Try to close your legs.”

Her left leg moves just enough that I’m not worried about her hip, but she can’t do more than a couple inches. I slipped vibrating Ben Wa balls in my pocket the last time I went to the dresser. They have a remote I keep hidden.

“How does it feel?”

“Good, Daddy.”

“We’ll see.” I waggle my eyebrows before intensifying my gaze.

I watch her suck in a breath that caves her stomach and pushes out her chest. I press the balls into her, rubbing her clit as my fingers withdraw from her pussy. I use the remote to turn them on, and she shrieks again. I put them straight on high. This time her breaths are fast and shallow. I watch her, growing concerned. She sees me, and I can tell she’s forcing herself to calm. She doesn’t want to upset me.

This is my last trip to the dresser. I grab a foam wand and a blindfold. I slip the blindfold over her eyes. I watch closely for how her body reacts to losing that sense. Now she truly doesn’t know what will come next. I shift to stand behind her, but at a distance that allows me to hold the vibrator against her clit while spanking her with the crop.

What we’ve done has been the prelude to her punishment. I observe her with an intensity I haven’t even used with a captive I’m torturing to the brink of death. I know I’m creating sensory overload for her. It’s a state of confusion where she doesn’t know which sensation to focus on. The vibration on her clit or the vibration on her g spot while her arse burns.

I purposely didn’t restrain her hands for this. That would be more lack of control than I want to create. She’s clutching the bedding to keep from reaching down to stop me. She moans over and over, yelping when the crop hits a particularly sensitive spot that I’ve already spanked. If she whimpers—even hints at a whimper—it will all end. I watch her breathe through it all.

“Daddy, I need to come.”

“I know. But don’t.”

“I won’t be able to stop it.”

“Yes, you will. Do not come until I say you can.”

“But, Da?—”

“Cailín.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll do my best.”

The authority I infused into that one word and her obedience says everything about this. Her tone sounds more relaxed than it has since we started. She’s fully given me control, and it eases her mind. I’ve taken what she’s given me, and I’m at peace.

I turn off the wand and put it on the bed. I shift to spank her pussy, but I keep it light as I unbutton and unzip my pants. I toe off my shoes. I put down the crop to finish stripping. I’m careful as I retrieve the Ben Wa balls. Then I ease into her and just hold myself still. I kiss the inside of her knee since it’s almost level with my mouth. My hand caresses her deep pink arse.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, little one.”

“Thank you.”

---