Page 20 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

He sets the plate free and finally loosens the last of my binds. The ache penetrating all those locked up muscles throbs. He can't expect me to endure any more than this. Too proud to show him any weakness, and hungry as hell, I reach for the plate.

I have a moment of primal panic that he won't let go of the edges, but he hands it to me along with heavy silverware. He walks across the room and leans against the wall. So this really is his plan -- stare at me eating. I don't even care by the time I get my hands on the silverware. Steak. Mashed potatoes. Gravy. Roasted carrots. I'm all into this dinner. I eat like an animal and I hope I make it nasty to turn this freak off completely.

Rage says nothing. He just watches me eat in silence for about twenty-five minutes. Once all the food is gone, he barely lets me hang onto the plate an extra five seconds. He scoops everything from my hands, walks out of the cell and locks me back in.

What the hell? I hear him walking upstairs and it doesn't take long for me to panic. When is he coming back? Can I get some music down here? Maybe an artificial plant?

Rage returns within five minutes unencumbered by the dishes, but looking at me suspiciously with his hands in his pockets. He stands on the other side of the cell. I sit up again, mostly hopeful that he has some type of cornbread muffin in his pocket. (I went way too long without food.)

He leans against the metal bars, pressing his head into the full weight of his arm as he exhales slowly.

"I really don't want to fight you, Keyshawn. But I fully intend to keep my word. If you want me to go easy on you,when I open this door, you will do nothing to fight me off. You will allow me to throw your ass over my lap... and punish you."

He meets my defiant "like fuck you will" look with a calm, expressionless face. My ass throbs with the muscle memory of enduring Rage's first spanking. I got paid $20,000 for the first spanking. That was done purely out of pleasure. Punishment will be different.

He unlocks the cell door and I don't know whether I should fight him now or later. Rage removes his hands from his pockets. There's no fucking cornbread muffin. My stomach sinks as he reaches for his belt and undoes it while calmly watching for my reaction.

I don't think I can hide my fear. The paddle hurt like hell, but there's a reason I chose the paddle the first time I encountered this man. Belts don't just hurt, they bring back all my worst memories from childhood. Belt for forgetting to thaw the chicken. Belt for leaving the bathroom lights on. Belt for coming home from school five minutes too late. My father lived and died by the leather belt.

There is nothing pleasurable at all about him using it to punish me.

And I must be showingmy fear because Rage's neutral expression turns into a purely psychopathic grin. He loves this shit. He lives for it. Spanking my ass as "punishment" is purely for his sadistic pleasure and I make that pleasure even more intense for Rage when he can feed off my fear.

I step off the bed,mostly to feel the blood in my legs again -- and just in case my body propels me to run for thedoor. I know that would be stupid. Rage could easily catch me and that would just make his anger worse...

But it's still tempting.What sane woman would let this man bend her over his lap and punish her for the great crime of living her own life?

Chapter Twelve

Rage

Ihave already lost control completely. What is wrong with me? I cooked dinner for her. She disobeyed my direct commands, forced me to wait hours and instead of immediately reprimanding Keyshawn and subjecting her to the roughest discipline imaginable, I spoil her with dinner.

She has the good sense to move away from the bed and allow me the space to sit. I tap my palm against my lap gently, guiding her where I need her. My cock is already semi-hard, although neither of us will be getting that much satisfaction tonight. She hasn't earned my cock yet.

"Come here," I command Keyshawn verbally when she shows hesitation about throwing her weight over my lap. The command works and she steps just close enough that I take hold of her wrist and guide her the rest of the way.

The rage of emotions surging through me only stops when I know that I have Keyshawn close enough that no fighting will work. I grab her waist and position her correctly over my lap, fully clothed. Her ass sticks up as she drapes over my thighs. My dick gets so hard from the physical contact that it nearly pokes into her and I have to force myselfto have even more control. I touch her ass cheeks through her clothes. I bet she doesn't have those bruises anymore.

She's been away from me for too long. Keyshawn shudders as my hand roams possessively over her ass. My memories are absolutely crystal about how fucking sexy that ass really is.

Keyshawn has the perfect bubble butt.

"I missed this ass."

I don't expect her to respond. But she will. Soon. Once she gets over her little tantrum, she'll realize that I did this for both of us. You don't find a sexual connection like this too often and when you do... it's rarely with a woman who would be a suitable partner. Slowly, I peel the pants away from Keyshawn's ass and slide them halfway down her thighs.

Her underwear clings to her ass with some of the fabric buried between her cheeks. I push my fingers beneath the elastic band and pull the fabric from between her butt cheeks. Fuck, she smells delicious. It might be sick, but I like the scent of an unwashed woman. Especially this one.

Once I tease the contours of her underwear, I slide it down her ass cheeks and want to choke with disappointment when I find her butt completely healed.

No marks of mine remained. She's been gone long enough that her body has forgotten me and judging by the way she tried to escape, Keyshawn wants to forget me.

That won't happen. I take the belt from my side and touch her bare ass again before I bruise it up.

"You shouldn't have left me for so long," I whisper. "I remember how long it took this pretty black ass to show some bruises. You're giving me more work."

I waited far too long to come face to face with her perfect black ass again. I hate that she has no more bruises left and I fully intend to change that with my belt. My hand dips between her thighs slightly because I want to feel her juices.But she isn't wet enough to drip down her thighs... yet. The absence of her juices angers me. But I need to keep some control, so I force myself to touch and fondle her longer before striking her.

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