Page 31 of Violent Cravings

Chapter 17

Laura

I expected a lot of things when I signed up for this. I expected him to spank me, be rough with me, pull my hair, and even choke me while he was having his way with me.

But I didn’t expect this.

I didn’t expect to be asked to parade in front of him like a model on a runway. I didn’t expect him to bark at me like a fitness trainer snarling at his client, or snipping like Tyra Banks did when she was trying to coach those naive aspiring models on her reality TV show.

I don’t like this one bit. I’ve never felt comfortable in my skin, and his demands force me to confront everything I don’t like about myself. My limbs are too long, I never know what to do with my arms when I’m walking or standing, and I’ve grown accustomed to slouching to make myself smaller because most of my friends are a lot shorter than me. I hate to stick out, and if there is one thing I could change about myself, it would definitely be my height. I would gladly give a few inches away to someone who wants them.

But he’s forcing me to do exactly the opposite, and I don’t know what to make of it. The way he looks at me is so unsettling, but yet it’s charming and sexy at the same time. It’s as if he’s eating me with his eyes, ravaging every inch of my long body with relish, as I strut up and down in front of him. Sometimes, I even catch him licking his lips, as if he’s about to eat a delicious meal.

He uses the cane on me again, several times. Each time hurts more than the one before, leaving a stinging pain on my thighs, on the back of my legs, and on my sore ass. I try to do better, but it’s so hard to break the habit that has become second nature to me over the years.

Why is he enjoying this?

It’s obvious that he‘s enjoying it. The massive bulge in his crotch hasn’t shrunk one bit since I first noticed it. He’s hard for me; he wants me.

And I want him.

The distance between us is another thing that annoys the hell out of me. When I almost fell and he caught me in his strong arms, I felt my heart start racing in my chest. I was wild with anticipation, thinking that this would be it, that I would finally feel his hands on me, everywhere, and that I would finally feel him buried deep inside me.

I’ve yet to tell him that he’s going to be my first. If I ever do, that is. Maybe I don’t have to tell him? Maybe I shouldn’t tell him? I’m sure there’s a chance that he won’t even notice that I’m a virgin. It doesn’t have to hurt, there doesn’t have to be blood…right?

“Stay with me!” he warns, and I feel another blow as it stings the flesh on my ass.

I yelp, trying to hold back the burning tears. This one hurt so much that I wouldn’t be surprised if it drew blood.

Just like the other smacks, it causes mild throbbing of after-pain that does the weirdest things to me. I can feel the thong sticking to my slit, drenched in my juices. The thought both embarrasses and arouses me at the same time.

I hate this. Why does it make me feel this way? Why is it that all I can think of is the desire to fall down on my knees in front of him and begging him to please, finally, fuck me.

You’ll scream. You’ll cry. You’ll beg me to fuck you.

He knew it would be like this. He knew it as if this was his body, his mind.

“Doll!”

I shriek when another smack brutally pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Where the hell are you?” he bellows. “You’re daydreaming instead of following my commands.”

I cast him an apologetic look, and then continue walking, slow and unsteady, but with my head held high and my naked breasts pushed out in front of me.

“I’m sorry, master,” I whisper in a soft voice laced with yearning, hoping that it might seduce him to stop this show.

I don’t know if it was my voice that wins him over, but he finally gives in and motions for me to stop.

“Stand still,” he says.

At first, I’m afraid he’s only making me stop to unleash a new round of punishments on me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he approaches me and places his big, rough hands at the side of my body with careful tenderness, as if he was afraid I’d crumble into dust.

“You did good,” he praises earnestly, leaning in for a kiss.

I welcome his soft lips on mine, immediately full of relief and excitement for what’s to come. Even though I’ve been craving his touch, I still flinch when I feel his fingers between my legs. His fingers move deftly and with purpose, shoving my soaked thong to the side of my slit in one abrupt motion, greedily sliding between my pulsating wet folds.

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I feel his moan vibrating through our kiss, as soon as his fingers meet my slick arousal.

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