Page 25 of Bought and Enjoyed

Part of me wanted to throw aside the martinet and bury my cock in her wet heat right then and there. But I knew I needed to see this through. Alice needed to understand the full extent of my control over her body and her pleasure.

“You’re doing well,ma chère,” I murmured, running a hand soothingly down her spine. “But we’re far from finished.”

I raised the martinet again, letting it whistle through the air before connecting with Alice’s tender flesh. The sharp crack echoed in the room, followed by Alice’s strangled cry.

“Four,Monsieur,” she gasped, her voice thick with unshed tears.

With each stroke, I watched Alice’s reactions carefully. The way her breath hitched, the subtle arch of her back, the glistening evidence of her arousal—it all told a story of a woman on the precipice of embracing her submissive nature. But I knew she wasn’t quite there yet. She needed to be pushed further, taken to the edge of what she thought she could endure, and made to feel that her master had punished her thoroughly for her disobedience.

“Five,Monsieur,” Alice whimpered after another stinging blow. Her bottom had bloomed a beautiful shade of pink, the marks from the martinet creating an intricate pattern across her pale skin.

I paused, running my hand soothingly down her spine. “You’re doing so well,ma chère,” I murmured. “But we’re only halfway there.”

Alice’s body tensed at my words, a small sob escaping her lips. Part of me ached to gather her in my arms, but that wasn’t what she, or I, needed right now.

I raised the martinet once more and struck again, letting the leather whistle through the air before connecting with Alice’s tender flesh. The sharp crack echoed in the room, followed by Alice’s strangled cry.

“Six,Monsieur,” she gasped, her voice a wrenching sob.

I watched intently as the leather strands left their marks across her reddening skin. The contrast of the angry welts against the sweet, rounded flesh of her delectable bottom mesmerized me. With each stroke, I felt a confusing mix of arousal and something deeper, more tender. Part of me reveled in Alice’s submission, in the power I held over her trembling body. But another part wanted to stop the punishment, to comfort her.

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear these dangerous thoughts. I couldn’t allow myself to develop real feelings for Alice. She was meant to be a diversion, a plaything—nothing more. And yet…

“Seven,Monsieur,” Alice whimpered after another stinging blow.

Her voice, soft and submissive, sent a jolt of electricity through my body. I couldn’t deny the effect she had on me, the way my heart raced at the sight of her bent over before me, accepting my discipline on her submissively presented backside. It felt like much more than just physical attraction. Alice had somethingabout her—her intelligence, her spirit, the way she both yielded to and resisted my control—that fascinated me in a way no woman ever had before.

Alice

My face had crumpled into a mask of woe, a little girl’s pout at the cruel punishment her guardian had decreed for her, the terrible sting of the lashes on the ancient implement of family discipline—and the matching sting of the humiliation. Punished naked, bending over my bed. Taught a lesson in obedience by the man who kept me, the firm-handed sponsor who believed in enforcing his will the old-fashioned way.

I buried my face in the bedspread, trying to muffle my cries as the martinet continued to lash across my tender flesh. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pain radiating through my body, yet underneath it all was an undeniable current of arousal that both thrilled and terrified me.

“Eight,Monsieur,” I choked out, my voice thick with tears.

Lucas’ hand came to rest on the small of my back, his touch both soothing and electrifying. “Just two more,ma chère,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well.”

His words of praise sent an unexpected warmth through me, even seeming to ease some of the sting from my punished bottom. I found myself arching slightly into his touch, craving more even as I dreaded the final strokes.

The martinet whistled through the air once more, connecting with a sharp crack that echoed in the quiet room. I cried out, my body jerking against the bed.

“Nine,Monsieur,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

I tensed, bracing myself for the final stroke. When it came, it was harder than the others, landing right at the sensitive crease where my bottom cheeks became my thighs. A strangled sob escaped my lips as white-hot pain bloomed across my skin.

“T-ten,Monsieur,” I managed to whimper, my whole body trembling.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was my ragged breathing. I remained bent over the bed, my body quivering with a mix of pain, humiliation, and something else I didn’t want to name.

Lucas’ hand moved from my back, trailing lightly over my punished flesh. I hissed at the contact, even his gentle touch sending sparks of sensation through my over-sensitized skin.

“You took your punishment well,ma chère,” he praised, his voice low and approving. “Now, let’s see how wet it made you.”

Before I could process his words, I felt his fingers slide between my thighs, probing my most intimate places. I gasped, instinctively trying to close my legs. But Lucas’ other hand gripped my hip firmly, holding me in place.

“Ah ah,” he chided. “No hiding from me. Your body belongs to me now, remember?”

His fingers explored further, and I felt my face flame with embarrassment as he encountered the abundant evidence of my arousal. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

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