Page 15 of His Captive Pet

“Fine.”

“You just sit tight while I get my strap.”

“No. I don’t want you to get the strap.” God, he made her sound like a whiny child.

He didn’t say a word, just twirled the cuffs around his finger and went back to the wall, snagging the thick strap off the hook.

“Not enough light.” He twirled the cuffs again and reached over his head to pull on a small string that turned on the overhead light fixture. “There. Better.” He smiled at her. Not a pleased,looks like we’re going to have a good timesmile, but a forced twist of his lips.

He took a step toward her, and she threw her hands in front of her, as though to ward him off.

“Red! Red! Red.” She raised her voice with each repetition of the universal safeword used at the club.

He twirled the cuffs again and tucked the strap beneath his left arm as he snapped them on her outstretched wrists.

“Now, Aubree, this is a punishment. So, yeah, red, doesn’t work now.” He gripped the short chain linking the metal bracelets and pulled her toward him. “This is your safety we’re talking about. And you broke all sorts of rules today.”

She blinked, momentarily unable to think as he pulled her over to stand beneath a hook protruding from the ceiling. He had the strap, and her hands were bound. Her mouth dried, her throat constricted. He wasn’t playing around. This wasn’t some sort of trick to make her apologize.

“You can’t do this!” Although the words demanded, her voice didn’t do justice to the amount of panic building.

He reached over to the wall and plucked off a coil of rope. Her mind urged her feet to make a break for the door again, but he would only snag her.

“I did promise you, didn’t I? I was clear enough when I told you what I would do if you went to another dog fight.”

Her legs trembled.

“You can’t. It’ll hurt.” She eyed the strap, thick leather, worn and ready. Her ass twitched just at the thought of it. Maybe if he was playing, maybe if he would touch her, fondle her a little, she could take the pain it had to offer, but he didn’t look to be in the foreplay sort of mood.

“I’m going to redden your ass. Of course it’s going to hurt. For a day or so, I’d think. But I won’t ever hurt you, not where it matters, not where it counts.” He concentrated on winding the rope around the chain of the cuffs while he made his promise. He tied off the end and with complete ease, then slipped the loop over the hook and went about securing her. When he was finished, her arms were over her head and she stood on her toes.

“Don’t do this,” she demanded, twisting her body away. Going too far, she lost her footing, putting too much pressure on her wrists. “Fuck.” She repositioned until the burn lessened.

“I’m not doing this. You did this. When you lied to me, when you disobeyed me, when you cursed at me, kicked me, and tried to run away just now. I told you—I warned you what would happen if you kicked me in the truck, but you just kept on with your tantrum. Well. Now you’ll learn.”

“The only thing I’m going to learn is what a bastard you are.” She screamed when his hands wrapped around her middle, sliding around her hips until he found the button of her jean shorts. He ignored her taunt, her insult, and undid the button and zipper, before peeling her shorts to the floor. He didn’t bother taking them off her ankles, he let them dangle, aiding in her discomfort and bondage.

“This isn’t even me being a bastard. This is me going easy because we don’t have a hell of a lot of time to deal with your behavior and your attitude properly. But once we do, sweetheart, you’ll learn even more lessons about me, and yourself, too.”

“You make no sense. Wait. What are you doing?” She tried to kick out, but it was too late. The sound of cotton tearing filled the room, and her panties were completely removed from her body.

“There. Now we’re ready.”

“Blake. Blake.” She tried to turn her head, to catch his gaze, anything to convince him not to use that evil strap on her, but he’d trussed her up too well.

With more force than she’d expected, the first stroke of the strap landed, pushing her forward a step. She gasped and cried out when the burn began to settle into her flesh. Another stroke and another. She danced from foot to foot. The cuffs dug into her wrists with each wiggle, each attempt to avoid the punishment, but there was no escape. Each stroke landed with direct precision. He made his way up her bottom and then back down to her thighs. Not one inch of her skin survived the inferno.

“Blake!” she screamed, her throat becoming hoarse, but he had turned deaf on her.

“I told you those fights were run by gangs. I told you to stay away. You didn’t listen, didn’t obey me. Well, now you have no choice. Now you have the gang leader after you, now your life is in danger—and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Another hard swat across the middle of her ass and she gulped in air. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she’d stopped screaming; it hurt too much to try. Nothing would make him stop. He’d shut her off; her crying wouldn’t affect him.

“If that means you have to hate me in order to protect you, I will.”

Another lash and then another.

Her stomach shook from the pain radiating through her ass. Yanking down on the cuffs made the metal cut into her skin, and her lungs burned.

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