Page 20 of His to Take

“Yes, sir,” I breathed. After I’d said the words, I wondered why I’d said them, but somehow, they felt right. I expected to regret them, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

I liked calling him sir. I didn’t understand why.

“Are you going to keep being a good girl for me or do I need to use my belt?” he asked. I stared at the black strap in front of me through a blurry haze of aroused bliss.

What if there was more to this?

“That’s for you to decide, sir,” I breathed.

His hissing intake of breath was audible, and my pussy and buttocks clenched tight at the sound. What had I done? His palm smoothed over my backside, slapping it lightly, but enough to echo slightly. I worried my bottom lip with my teeth.

“Stand up,” he commanded abruptly.

I pushed my hands against the cushion beneath me. My muscles felt wobbly, but they did what they were supposed to do, at least partially. When Ryker saw me struggling a little bit, his arms wrapped around my waist and helped lift me up. As soon as my feet touched the floor, he was up and standing beside me. His hand circled my upper arm. Gently, he steered me around the couch. He slid his other hand up my back and pushed downbetween my shoulders a bit. I bent over the low back of the couch without him needing to say a word.

If I had felt on display before, this moment was something else entirely. His fingers flittered up the ridges of my spine and I gasped, biting my lip to keep the soft moan that wanted to escape inside me.

He used his foot to nudge my legs apart further, then further still, spreading me obscenely. I could feel the cool air whispering against my tender vulva, and I whimpered softly as his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pressing my head further down, making me rise onto my toes.

“You’re absolutely drenched, naughty girl. It seems I haven’t been firm enough with you, have I?”

My clit pulsed.

“No, sir,” I whispered.

I turned my head, watching as he leaned over the couch and his hand closed around the belt. Time seemed to slow as he lifted it off the couch. I watched it swing back and forth, the promise of pain and pleasure emanating from its well-conditioned surface.

“I should tell you, this next part is going to hurt,” he warned.

My entire body practically convulsed at his words. My hips rocked back and forth as much as the couch would allow, which wasn’t very much.

“Ryker,” I breathed.

“Is that what you should be calling me before I belt your bottom?”

“Sir,” I moaned. His fingers slipped in between my legs, quickly finding my clit, and swirling over it with just enough pressure to make an electric surge of desire arc up and down my spine.

“I bet you’ll come hardest for me once your ass is properly welted from my belt,” he murmured, and I shuddered hard. I rubbed myself as much as possible on his fingers before he pulled them away. I whined a bit in disappointment.

“Please don’t stop…” I blurted out, pouting at the disappearance of his fingers.

He slapped between my legs again repeatedly, using the flats of his fingers to spank my pussy hard enough to cause a series of stinging waves to roll through me. I cried out, but I stayed in position because I thought that he might expect it of me. With a start, I realized how much I wanted to please him.

“Do you think you’re in a position to tell me what to do right now, little girl?”

“No, sir,” I breathed, biting my lip, and trying to ignore the way my pussy was spasming with more desire than I thought I could handle. He drew his arm up, dragging the soft leather against my legs and then between them. The moment it brushed against my sensitive folds, I flinched.

“Try to tell me what to do again, and your soaking wet little pussy will also find out what the belt feels like,” he warned.

My clit throbbed, seemingly developing its own heartbeat in syncopation with every syllable that fell from his lips.

I had no doubt that it would sting much more than his hand had.

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered.

“Now present your bottom more for me,” he demanded softly.

Without thinking, my body obeyed his instructions, instinctively arching my back to present my buttocks to him more prominently. It was as if his voice had a direct, deep connection to me, like it was controlling me, and I wasn’t in charge of myself anymore.

---