Page 12 of Damaged
There is no escape from this hold or this position at all.
His eyes collide with mine from his position crouched down in front of me, and a sinister grin lifts his lips.
“Have you ever experienced an orgasm from pain alone?” he asks as he stands, walking back around to stand behind me as my brow furrows.
“No. I didn’t know that was possible.”
My confusion is evident. I’ve enjoyed pain for a very long time, but I usually need internal and clitoral stimulation along with the pain in order to achieve an orgasm. Without the pain, it’s become very difficult for me to come. Not impossible. But very, very hard.
“It’s not common, but it is possible.”
I hear the metal from his buckle jangling, then the slow slide of leather being pulled free from his pants. My entire body breaks out in cold shivers. No longer just from the cold air pumping into this room like a freezer, but in excited anticipation.
My head lifts, trying to look over my shoulder, but I can’t see him. I can feel him standing behind me.
He lightly kicks my legs out, legs spread wide, so my entire body is pressed flat against the table and my pussy is on full display. I feel so vulnerable in this position, but the excitement for what’s to come overrides that feeling completely. I’m okay with a little vulnerability every now and then as long as I get what my body so desperately craves.
My body tenses up, and I’m getting wet waiting on the first strike, but it doesn’t come. The room is completely silent–just the sounds of my panting breaths and the whirring air conditioning. If I didn’t know Dr. Graveheart was in here, I would have thought he had left from how absolutely quiet he is.
The seconds rolling by feel like minutes, while my heart rate skyrockets and my breathing escalates from the excitement and anticipation. Shifting my feet out wider to find a comfortable position, but I am unable to find one. My socks keep slipping onthe tile floor as my ass wiggles with the effort to stay the way he wants.
Still nothing.
My head moves back and forth, still trying to see over my shoulder.
Silence and still no movement.
I feel him standing there. I feel his eyes watching my every movement. It’s like a physical caress, but one that could lead to punishment.
“What are y–”
Before I can finish my sentence, I feel the strike just below my ass cheeks, right where my thighs meet the full flesh of my ass. The sting makes me scream louder than I’ve ever screamed. Before I can even stop, another lash across the same place, but this time a little higher, where I feel the sting on my pussy.
I jolt forward as much as possible, my body trying to escape, but the way he has me fastened down to this table with his tie, I don’t have much room at all. A few seconds pass, and the leather of the belt slashes through the air again, but this time a little higher. The sting across the supple skin of my ass feels the brunt of this strike. It feels like he’s using even more strength behind every hit than the previous one
The longer we seem to go, the more force is behind the swing.
This fucking man is stronger than I expected.
The next lash has just the belt directly over my pussy, and being this wide open, I feel my clit throb. “F-fuuuckkkk!” I yell.
I feel his hand pressing into the small of my back, pinning me harder into the table. That’s when I realise I’ve been arching, trying to curl my ass away from the next lash. People think masochists don’t feel pain, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. We feel it just as sharply as everyone else, we just happen to crave it.
And holy fucking Hades…do I feel it right now.
I have to admit this man delivers on his promises of bringing me pain.
His fingertips dig into the covered, open wounds along my lower back that Andy inflicted, making me hiss. I arch my back the opposite direction trying to get away from the intense searing pain of those cuts reopening.
I tuck my lips into my mouth and release a muffled scream again.
Leaning down, hovering close to my ear, I can feel his minty breath ghost over my sweaty face.
“What’s wrong, Katarina? You fucking wanted this. Didn’t you?” he asks. I’m breathing so heavily with my eyes slammed closed as I shake my head because I’m not able to answer. I’m not even sure he’s expecting a response.
Holding me down on the table, I feel him shift as he swings his arm back, and the belt hits once again. This time, it’s angled from how he’s standing over me, so the corner of the belt wraps around my outer hip, smacking it hard. When I scream this time, I feel like my throat is going to bleed from how harsh the noise leaves my chest.
I hear him bark a deep, sinister laugh.
