“You’re in luck,” I said. “I’ll have to fuck your ass another day. Today is all about the pain. You deserve everything you’re going to get.”
He opened his mouth to argue the toss, but grunted instead as the paddle landed. It landed hard, and made one hell of a thwack. His beautiful ass blushed pink.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he sneered, but his teeth were gritted.
“Better? How about this?”
Rhythmic slaps, back and forth, cheek to cheek, and it felt fucking divine. He’d jump with every slap, at first; the tiniest little jerk as the paddle landed. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t make a sound, eyes closed and lips tight.
At first it was a horny little novelty, a simple pleasure at having won a tiny piece of ground from him, but the solid pulse of the paddle in my grip was intoxicating. It did something to me, something primal and dark. I felt a sizzle of life through my veins, a bloodlust I’d never before tapped, and I found myself grinning.
I hit him with everything I had, raining punishment all over his thighs. He kept it together like a trooper, breath even and face impassive, but for all his best intentions it was only a matter of time. When he finally let out the first pained yelp, it was sweet music to my wanting pussy.
“Yes,” I hissed. “The mighty Andy Morgan, hurting like my little bitch. You ought to see the state of your fucking ass, Andy. It’s fucking beautiful.”
“Fuck you,” he spat. “Is that all you’ve got? I could take this all fucking night long.”
The jerk of his body as I picked up pace told me otherwise. I whacked his ass every which fucking way until my arm ached and Andy was panting.
“You think you can lord it around like the big fucking I am, and I’m just going to shut my pretty mouth and play nice? I’m not your fucking servant, Andy. I do what I fucking want. Things are going to change around here, partner.”
The flesh of his ass cheeks was rigid, hardening into welts under the skin.
“Does it hurt, pretty boy?” I said. “Tell me how it fucking feels.”
“No,” he lied.
“No?!” I reached for the cane, and swished it before his eyes. “You want more? Is that what you’re fucking telling me?” I tapped the cane on his shoulder blades and he winced at that.
Bravado is such a bitch. The stupid, proud asshole just couldn’t bring himself to give in.
“You’ll have to try harder to break me, Faye, you’re not even fucking close.”
I ran the tip of the cane down his back. “Why do you have to push it so far?” I whispered. “Am I really so unforgivable?”
I raised the cane high, aiming right for the heart of his bruised flesh, and brought it down so hard it stung my hand. The chain rattled as he strained in his cuffs, and his legs buckled, shaking. I didn’t give him chance to recover before I landed another. It was savage and cruel, but I didn’t fucking care. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted to hear his pain. I wanted to see him squirm and twitch and writhe for me. I wanted him to beg. I swung the cane and hit him again.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You sadistic fucking bitch, Faye.”
“Tell me how it fucking hurts, pretty boy.” I landed a fourth strike diagonally across the first three, and ridged welts turned purple as pooled blood threatened to break through, and Christ it looked delicious. “Tell me how much it hurts! Tell me!”
His whole body leapt forward at the fifth strike. The cane drew blood, just a little, but enough to give me tingles in the pit of my stomach. I clenched my thighs, and my pussy throbbed so hard it fucking ached. “Fuck yes, you’re fucking bleeding, pretty boy,” I groaned and squeezed his skin, coaxing every drop from the welt. He let out a gasp as my tongue swept over the wound. “Your blood takes so fucking sweet,” I said. “Tell me how much it hurts, or I’m going in for seconds.”
He remained silent. Not even a fucking groan of pain to ease the fire in my belly.
I reached under him and grabbed hold of his cock. Despite the pain he was almost fully hard, swelling in my grip as I yanked him.
“Why won’t you give me a fucking break?” I asked “I jumped through every fucking hoop you threw at me… without hesitation, without question. I put myself on the fucking line for you, Andy, to make up for what I did.”
“My heart fucking bleeds for you,” he said. “You want a fucking medal for doing the fucking banking? Hit me, Faye, just fucking hit me and shut your stupid fucking mouth.”
I threw the cane aside and took the strap from the case. “One of us is going to break first,” I said, trailing the leather over his battered skin. “Just tell me it hurts, and I’ll fucking stop, Andy.”