Page 20 of Married to My Master

Each strike did little to hurt her, physically. Instead, it was her pride that suffered as she was forced to submit to this demeaning act. He was treating her like a child, and she knew it. That's what all his rules had been about.

The spanking continued to rain down on her, though, in a torrential downpour she couldn't avoid. But, that wasn't the worst part of it all.

She was, she realized, as her moans of protests became moans of pleasure, beginning to enjoy her punishment. There was something just so dark and kinky about it all, even after the time in the closet. She was held in place by this strong, domineering man, the smell of him on the leather belt across her throat, his callused hand swatting her ass and thighs as she struggled in his grasp. “Fuck you, Dane,” she moaned, her words more about the way he was making her crave what was happening than about any pain he was causing.

“Fuck me?” he growled, as he leaned over, pulling her along with him with the belt. The bed shifted beneath them both. “We need to work on that foul language of yours, Emily. It won't do at all.” His hand returned to her backside.

“Fuck you,” she gasped again, as she felt her excitement leaking down the inside of her thighs. She hoped she was ruining his slacks by being across his lap. Then she heard the unmistakable buzzing from her vibrator. She tried to wiggle away from it, but didn't say anything as she struggled against the belt at her throat. “Fuck you,” she groaned again.

He roughly forced her legs apart, spreading her quickly slickening thighs. “Seems someone's appreciating the need for their punishment,” he growled again, as he rubbed the vibrating silicon tip against her clit.

Fireworks exploded inside her, and she squeezed her eyes to try and shut out the pleasure. But, behind her eyelids, it was just like the Fourth of July. She moaned, a low, throaty, and slutty sound as her little friend buzzed away at her. “Please, Dane, please, oh, God,” she groaned, the wonderful pleasure invading her body and pushing all thoughts of propriety out of her mind.

He tightened the belt around her neck and slipped the vibrator deep between her lips.

She spread her legs wider, panting in unexpected ecstasy as her eyes flew open. She pushed back onto the vibrating toy, sliding it further inside her as she felt her orgasm, the one he'd denied her so many times, building quickly inside her. She gasped for breath, her vision going dark as she arched back across his lap. She didn't even struggle anymore, her body just letting it all happen and urging her to accept it. She moaned again, wanted to beg him to let her finish, but her breath wouldn't come. The belt was pulled too tightly for her to breathe.

He fucked her with the toy, easily finding her g-spot. The vibrations of the toy reverberated through her whole body.

There it was! That was it! That was what her whole body had been screaming for her whole life!

Her whole body went stiff as a board, all her muscles contracting so tightly that her toes and fingers curled into claws as she spasmed on his lap. She shook, her muscles going wild and pressing her throat into the leather of Dane's belt. Her bottom thrust back into the air, shoving the vibrator deeper inside her. She screamed out a shattering orgasm, her body alight with a thousand stars burning out in supernovas as she came under this man's heavy-handed dominance of her body and mind.

Then, it was over, her body forgetting its will to fight. She slumped in Dane's arms, her head going slack and letting the belt hold her up. Where there had been a stern, fiery resistance, now there was a glowing light of pleasure mixed with pain.

Dane dropped the belt from her neck and carefully picked her up.

She gasped for breath as she hung in his arms, cradled against his chest like a wayward child. But, fuck, the feelings in her were nothing like a child could ever experience or comprehend. That was the most intense thing her tiny, fragile body had ever felt. She hadn't even realized anything that pleasurable could exist, outside stories on the internet. She lay her head against his broad chest, breathing deeply through her now deliciously sore throat, the ache a constant reminder of what Dane had done to her—done for her.

He placed her on the bed and lay her head back on the pillow. He stroked her sweat-dampened hair away from her forehead. “Now,” he said, his thumb idly rubbing over her forehead, “say thank you, sir.”

She knew she should say, “fuck you,” instead of, “thank you,” just then. But, as a little aftershock of her orgasm passed through her, reminding Emily of the pleasure she could have under Dane's hands, she just licked her lips.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered back.

“Get some rest,” he said softly. “It's late, and you deserve it for finally being such a good girl.”

She smiled up at him before she even realized what she was doing. Then he turned off the lights and went around to the other side of the bed. He took off his shirt and shoes and crawled into bed with her, wearing just his pants, socks, and undershirt.

“One last thing,” he said, as she slowly began to drift. “I'm a very light sleeper.”

Chapter Eight

Emily

Emily stared down into the pot of stew, wondering how she'd come to this point. Here she was, cooking for Dane.

She'd woken late in the afternoon, around four, and recoiled immediately. Somehow, during the night, she'd curled herself up against Dane. Maybe it was because she'd been naked and cold, or maybe her body just needed the human contact. Whatever the reason, she'd had her head resting on his broad chest, her nostrils flaring as she took in his manly smell. But her middle-of-the-night cuddling didn't worry her that much.

What did worry her, though, was that she'd just laid her head back on his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart and the insistent sound of his breath. She had just closed her eyes and remembered how his hands had felt on her the night before, how they'd manhandled her over the last two days, and how they'd so carefully tucked her into bed.

She'd stayed like that, not wanting to wake him.

“You awake?” Dane had asked a little while later, his hand stroking her hair. “Why don't you go take a bath? I'll be out here.”

When she had gotten back from the bath, Dane had allowed her to put clothes on for the first time in what felt like ages. Once fully dressed, Emily realized how restricting her clothes normally felt, and how even the finest pieces of her wardrobe were itchier and scratchier than just the air she'd been clothed in for the last few days.

Fast forward an hour or so, and here she was. Finishing a meal for her captor.

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