Page 71 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

I bend over before he instructs me to do so, but Deacon shares my urgency and doesn’t reprimand me. He stands behind me and I half expect him to slide inside me without waiting — make the punishment even worse by making me wait longer for the mixture of pain and pleasure that we spare together. I couldn’t get that lucky. Deacon groans once I bend over.

“You have the sweetest ass,” he whispers.

He pauses to breathe deeply and admire me. I don’t dare speak and interrupt this moment. He spent months planning this. Even longer. I should know Deacon well enough by now to know that this won’t be over quickly. He exhales slowly with a breath so steady that his levels of control concern me.

“How could I ever imagine going easy on that ass?” Deacon says with a low growl. “I would be out of my fucking mind…”

I won’t lie, his continued desire for me reassures me. We share this dark desire together. And he has been so damn patient… Deacon’s hand wanders over my ass cheeks and down my thighs. He squeezes my tight hamstrings and then his hand wanders back up to my ass.

“You don’t get to choose tonight,” he says. “I have big plans for you… Huge…”

His thumb wanders between my ass cheeks and then past my tight back door down to the first knuckle on his thumb. I don’t gasp out loud but my body tenses instantly in surprise. Shockingly, Deacon has never gone back there before. He never threatened or so much as hinted he might have any interest in my ass before.

But now…

His thumb wriggles around a little more and then he groans as he slides the thumb all the way inside my ass. I relax my body instinctively. The only way I can see myself getting through this is if I trust him — not resist him. Deacon groans and slides his thumb out before pushing it all the way back in again.

“I need to feel that tight hole gripping the fuck out of my dick the second I’m done turning your sweet ass purple.”

He withdraws his thumb suddenly and guilt surges in my chest as my desire for him swells and I can’t even hide it because my pussy dribbles excitedly all over my thighs. I never sat around thinking about taking a man’s dick in my ass, I’ll be honest, but the idea of doing it with Deacon gives me a craving for it that I didn’t know I had.

There are so many little parts of the experience I want to share with him, even if right now my first thought is how gross it’s going to be. If he cared… I guess he wouldn’t have his thumb up there. I don’t have more time to think about my pending anal penetration. The moment of relief Deacon so generously bestowed on me disappears once I watch him approach the black drawers fastened to the playroom wall.

He conceals all the toys in this playroom on purpose to give himself additional control. From my position, I can just hear him open the drawers and feel my butthole pulsing in discomfort from Deacon’s previous intrusion. The velvet platform grazes against my nipples, but the fabric is too soft to be really uncomfortable.

Deacon takes a painfully long time to select the weapon he wants to spank me with. My heart drops to my stomach when I see it. I should have known he would pick the most sadistic weapon after waiting this long to have my ass. And secretly, I wanted him not to go easy on me. I wanted him to prove that we still have the capacity for intense passion from before the baby.

Facing the reality of the riding crop is much different from my fantasy. Deacon turns to me wielding it with obvious pleasure, and he teases me further with his words.

“I’ll be easing you into things tonight,” he says calmly. “Only ten. But… if you squeal or make any loud noises, we’ll have to begin again.”

Bastard. He knows this isn’t “easing me into things”, but he also knows that I’ll rise to the challenge. The inner control freak that makes me perfectly submissive to him in these sexual situations comes from my masochistic need to rise to any challenge — especially a physical one that ends in orgasms like the ones I get from Deacon’s dick.

“No complaints,” he says, barely concealing his giddiness. “Perfect.”

He positions himself behind me. I barely have time to get a deep breath in before I feel the leather crop biting into my ass and stealing a piece of my fleshwith it. I know his first strike drew blood, but I don’t dare make a sound. Nine more. I can survive nine more. Even if it’s been forever.

I want to prove to Deacon that the special intimacy we share still lives. He strikes my ass again more gently the second time. “Gentle” by the standards of the riding crop is still enough that I have to engage my entire mental capacity not to flinch or cry out. The next four become a blur. But I keep count, slowly repeating the number in my head.

Six. Six. We only have four more. Deacon walks away from me with the riding crop and internally, I panic. There aren’t many other responses available to me with this much adrenaline surging through my body. He rests the riding crop on top of the black drawers and then reaches inside for something. I can’t see what it is, but it must be able to fit in the palm of his hand and clearly, he doesn’t want me to see what it is.

Armed with his riding crop and the mysterious object he pulled from the drawer, Deacon positions himself behind me again. I prepare myself for another slice from the riding crop but his soft palm touches me instead. The contrast always causes my pussy to leak with the growing craving for affection that rises during our power play sessions.

His fingers move to my butthole again and I use the opportunity to focus on breathing deeply through the pain on my flesh and the cruel anticipation of the last four lashes. He wouldn’t have forgotten them, would he? And what is he doing to my ass? Deacon’s thumb slides in and out of my ass. I stifle a moan, just in case he’s trying to trick me into crying out and starting over with the riding crop.

“I got something to stretch your hole and make it easier for you to take me,” he says. “It’s a very pretty hot pink butt plug. When I’m not horny as fuck, I’ll take a picture.”

He presses the hard silicon tip of the plug against mybackdoor. He must have taken some lube with him as well because I feel warm liquid sliding all over my butthole and then with a forceful push, Deacon’s hot pink butt plug spreads my ass open. He pushes it in a little more and to keep myself from screaming, I have to force my body forward and press my nipples harder against the velvet platform.

“Damn…” he whispers. “You have the perkiest ass I’ve ever seen…”

I should have known a strike would follow his compliment, but he surprises me and I almost break my focus. My ass stings. I nearly go blind from the pain and I can feel blood trickling from the opening. Three more. I only need to survive three more. Deacon wipes juices off my legs with something warm. I plant my feet harder against the ground.

The best part of this will come when I can prove to myself how much I can take. The strongest part of our bond comes from Deacon’s intimate knowledge of my limits. He knows just how much he can push me and he takes pleasure from doing it and watching my pain tolerance and obedience grow…

My body remains awake and alive for the next two lashes. But the last one might force a scream out of me, especially if Deacon hits me in a particularly cruel place.

“Last one,” he growls. “And then I’m going to slide that plug out and take your pretty ass for the first time.”

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