Page 18 of Mated

I spank her again, firmly.

This time a light pink palm print appears on her cheeks, accompanied by another yelp.

I’d rather discipline her for something like this than have something worse happen, a more dangerous piece of defiance.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes!” she agrees immediately, but of course this can’t be over that quickly. A couple of slaps isn’t nearly enough to teach a lesson.

Kira

I can’t believe this is happening. I guess he did tell me to stay in bed, but I never thought it was like, a proper order. I figured it was more of a suggestion, something he wanted me to do, but it wouldn’t matter if I got out.

Now that I am prone over his powerful thighs, and my butt is stinging along with whatever was left of my pride, I’m starting towonder why I ever thought that. He’s not exactly a chill, relaxed kind of guy. He’s type A. In his case, A stands for alpha, and I know I already put him through a lot today by making him chase me through the park.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it could. He is very strong, and he could be beating the hell out of me if he wanted. I might have been a virgin before I met him, but I am no stranger to being whipped.

This feels different. He is holding me carefully, and he is making sure that I am not uncomfortable, other than in the way he wants me to be. I am snuggled close to his body, and his tone is firm, but not cruel. He almost sounds like he doesn’t want to be doing this at all.

I squirm as several more slaps land, each one of them measured and deliberately placed. I can feel the care in every single one of them, each of them calibrated to ensure they don’t hit too high or too low. The sting is growing slowly, and steadily, and it is starting to feel almost…good?

Guilt rushes through me. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. He’s trying to punish me. But being held by him feels like a reward, and even these slaps are sort of nice. The sharp pain is followed by a flush of heat and a little tingle of excitement between my legs.

He starts to spank me a little harder and a little faster. Maybe I’m not reacting the way he wants me to. Maybe he thinks he needs to do more to teach me a lesson. I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s making me feel increasingly good. I find myself holding my breath and trying to still my hips because I don’t want to give myself away, but the harder he spanks me, the more intense that tingle of pleasure becomes.

My legs start to spread and kick, ostensibly because the spanking hurts so much but actually because it lets me grind my clit against his thigh. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I know it’s against the spirit of what he’s trying to achieve—but I like pleasure, and every time he swats me, I am jolted firmly against his thigh and my body is flushed with a freshly generated supply of hormones.

I assume he doesn’t know what I’m doing. I hope he’s too focused on punishing me to notice that my cries have become less pained and more performative. I don’t want to be bad, but I can’t help myself.

“I see, you little…”

He pushes his hand down between my legs and rubs along the seam of my sex. My lips betray me immediately, parting and allowing his fingers to slide up against my wet interior.

“You like this, do you? Is it the disobedience you enjoy, the punishment, or both?”

“Neither!” I lie because I don’t know how to answer him.

He reaches beneath me, his arm sliding beneath my belly, and slides two fingers inside my aching pussy. I am still sensitive from having my virginity taken, not to mention my body becoming one creature and then another. He must have fucked me absolutely senseless for my pussy to still be so tender.

“I can feel your arousal, naughty pup,” he growls down at me. “This is not what I was trying to do. You are supposed to be learning your lesson.”

“I am learning a lesson,” I whimper.

He chuckles. “Yes, I’m sure you are, but not the one I intended you to learn. You’ve learned that disobeying me gives you pleasure.”

He doesn’t seem angry at me for the revelation, but it soon turns out he also has absolutely no intention of letting that be what I learn. He hikes the knee of the leg that my hips are over up a little higher, wraps a strong arm firmly around my waist, and starts really spanking me with slaps that echo around the room.

It hurts now. But it also feels good. Because he still has two fingers inside me, and now my clit is pressing against the heel of his palm. He can spank me as hard as he wants. I want him to. It feels so damn good. I am gasping now, whining, writhing. I am getting closer and closer to orgasm.

I’m surprised he doesn’t do anything to stop it. If he doesn’t want me to experience pleasure, why are his fingers inside me while he spanks me? Why is he letting me rut my way to a very illicit orgasm?

I try to hold back as long as I can, not wanting to prove him right even though he is more right than anybody has ever been about anything. I want to be good, but I don’t really even know what good is anymore.

In the end, good is following my desire and my need.

I come, my pussy clenching at his fingers so hard he must be able to feel it. I can feel him as my body tries to draw him deeper, wanting his cock and his seed. But he won’t give me that. That would make me shift again.

There’s a brief lull as the orgasm ripples begin to dissipate. I feel warmth and satisfaction. Everything and anything other than punished. A sense of smugness starts to settle into me too. DidI just get away with something? Did the big, mean, scary Cain Lupin just take mercy on me?

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