Page 78 of Role Play
“What do you call me?” Ash pressed. His voice was tight, on edge. And the sound of it both scared and enthralledme.
He wanted me to call him Sir. I just… I couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Wasn’t there another term? Anotherway?
I didn’t want to say it… so instead I saidnothing.
The second hit came down harder than the first, snapping across my skin. I gulped in a breath of air andgasped.
“I asked you, what do you call me?” He saidagain.
“A-Ash,” I said. Only it was the wrong answer. We both knew it. He knew it, I knewit.
Another striking blow, this time on my upper thigh. Pain pulsed against my flesh and I could feel my skin heating, burning with eachhit.
“Try again,” hesaid.
I swallowed as tears pushed through my clenched eyelids saturating the fabric draped on the bench. “Mr. Livingston,” I said, hoping that maybe it would be goodenough.
“You know what I want,” he hissed. “And you’re intentionally not saying it.” He struck again, this time, his hand slicing against the same raw area. He wasn’t giving me a break between each strike. One after the other, blow after blow. All this because I kissed him? Because I didn’t call himSir?
It felt like I was in the middle of playing a game where I was bound to lose, even if I followed the rules. And yet, despite the pain blistering, cutting across my backside, an excited shiver tumbled down my spine. My breasts were heavy, aching to be given the same misguided, fucked up attention that my ass was getting. My sex spasmed, the emptiness haunting me and I was throbbing for Ash to fillme.
I was on the edge of something profoundly sensational and also intensely frightening. My world was being tipped on its axis, and it was disorienting and also strangelyfreeing.
“I’m only going to ask you once more, Shorty. What do you call me?” His baritone voice was rich and deep—simply the sound of him had me pulsing, damnhim.
A swell of lust overtook my body. I was so turned on for reasons I couldn’t comprehend and maybe didn’t want to try. I was quivering now, my hands gripping the loose edges of the scarves that bound them. My legs were spread, revealing myself to him in the most vulnerable way. I could hear him panting eagerly behind me. A small part of me wondered if he trulywantedme to answer with Sir. Because he seemed to be enjoying administering thepunishments.
I had to bite my lip to stop myself from saying it. I wanted to please him—I wanted to hear Ash coo in my ear and kiss me and reward me with his cock and a million orgasms. But I couldn’t do it. The word was too loaded. Tears stung my eyes and my breath was strangled as I suppressed the sobs ofpain.
“Have it your way, then,” Ash said, his voice dark and so hollow sounding, he could have been speaking from inside an echochamber.
I heard, rather than felt his next strike. The sound of his palm connecting to my flesh cracked like a belt slapping against marble. And at first… I feltnothing.
Until that nothing simmered, slowly igniting into a fire. Blistering pain cut across my backside. It wasn’t deliciously sweet this time. It wasn’t receding intoarousal.
And there were no tender caresses from Ash between hits. He smacked his palm into me over and over again, one strike after the next, each one relentlessly hard andpainful.
“You had to learn the hard way,” he said, and ice overtook myveins.
Guess you’re learning the hard way.It was dad’s voice, not Ash’s that I heard. I squeezed my eyes shut as though this action could seal a wound that was now raw and open. I was exposed in so manyways.
This wasn’t what I thought BDSM would be. This was just… abuse. Me being hit. Where was the nuance? The sexiness? Where was the anticipation of my needs and the way he read my body so acutely last night? This was something entirely different. Ash was feral and primitive and his focus was solely on the punishment—not on anythingelse.
Blood roared in my head, making me feel foggy and clouded. This wasn’t right. It was so far from right. “Yellow,” I cried out. Justonce.
Why didn’t I say red? Why did I choose the code word for slowdown?
Because a small part of me wanted this. Asked for it. And if I was being totally honest with myself… I still wanted it. But there was a change in Ash. Some shift. I felt it this morning when he pulled away from me in his bedroom. I felt it here, now, when I kissed him. It could have just as easily been a robot hitting me frombehind.
I looked over my shoulder, catching his brutal expression. Sweat poured down his face. His blue eyes were wide and wild. His chest heaved with each labored breath that pushed through his openlips.
And he was touching his ring. He followed my gaze to his hand, then fisting my hair, jerked my eyes forward. “I didn’t say you could look back here,” hescolded.
“I said yellow,” Ireiterated.
“I heard you. Do you feel my hand on your ass?That’sme slowingdown.”
But despite his harsh words, his talented fingers--twined in my hair—loosened and though I wouldn’t define it as gentle, he tugged my head without nearly the same force asbefore.
