“Ow, ow.” She went up on her toes, tensing her thighs. “That hurts.”
“Not too much for you, though.”
No, it wasn’t too much. He knew she liked pain. With him, she was discovering just how much pain she liked, and it kept on surprising her. The next blow was a little harder, leaving behind an increasing burn. It was the real estate of the thing. The strap was wide and brutal. He caught her under the ass cheeks and she jumped.
“Ow, that really hurts!”
“No more commentary,” he scolded. “I know it fucking hurts. You need this, Ruby, for the Rachmaninoff if nothing else. He would have beat your ass for how you slaughtered his work today.”
“I didn’t slaughter it,” she protested, but he only answered with a volley of five strokes in a row. Whap, whap, whap, whap, whap. Her moan of complaint rose to a cry as she pulled at her bonds. He moved to the backs of her thighs, until they burned as hot as her ass cheeks.
“Ow, please!”
“Use your safe word or shut your fucking mouth.”
She clenched her lips shut and sucked in air through her nose, processing the pain. When Ethan spanked her, there was always a point of loosening, of letting go, but Ethan had never gone at her this hard. She wanted this, but it was new territory. At last, Jonathan stopped and stepped closer to her, stroking her flaming butt, letting her catch her breath.
“I love watching you struggle,” he said beside her ear. “I love it, Ruby.”
She shocked herself by letting out a sob. She hadn’t known the tears were there, and then they were spilling out of her eyes, soaking her cheeks. She couldn’t even wipe them away.
“It hurts,” she whimpered. “When you don’t stop between blows, the pain gets worse and worse, and it’s scary.”
“It is scary, I know,” he continued in his level voice. “Do you want me to stop?”
She thought about it a moment, just a moment. “I don’t want you to stop.” She squirmed, pushing her ass back against his palm. “I want you to fuck me.” Her pussy was dripping, clenching on the dildo, filled, but not filled in the way she liked.
“What a naughty, dirty mouth you have,” he said. He parted her ass cheeks, making her flinch, then spanked her on each cheek and moved away. Soft, sweet, whisper-in-her-ear time was over. She thought he probably paused like that and made her adore him so he could hurt her more when he picked back up again.
The strap landed hard, just as it had before he left off, leaving pain and agony in its wake. No matter how she flailed, no matter how she clenched, a fiery stroke came again until her whole ass was an aching expanse and felt four times its usual size. Not only that, but since he’d parted her ass cheeks in his bold, possessive way, she’d started thinking about what was next. An assfucking. That was why he wanted to break her down…
“That’s good, let it out,” he said when she kept crying. Now each stroke was accompanied by her sobbing moans. He put down the strap and picked up the whip. “You won’t need much of this, now. That strap was really hard for you, wasn’t it?”
She agreed, with messy crying. Her nose was starting to run and she sniffled the snot back up. He used the whip over the same areas as the strap, and instead of encompassing swathes of pain, the whip delivered thin stripes of fire. It was official. She’d never felt this much pain, not at any time in her life. Crying helped her process, but it didn’t take any of the stinging and throbbing away. She screamed when he flicked the insides of her thighs. He patted her ass to calm her.
“Okay, good girl. I think you’ve had enough.”
The weird thing was, as soon as he put down the whip, the final implement, she wasn’t sure she’d had enough. She could have taken more. She thought about saying so, but she was still crying too hard. He came with a tissue and held it to her nose.
“Blow,” he ordered.
She lowered her eyes as she complied, because he was staring at her, and it was Jonathan, and she’d never imagined kinky shit could get as intense as this. He’d warned her. He’d taken away so much of her power, she couldn’t blow her own nose.
“Better now?” He dabbed away her tears, knowing she wasn’t better, that there couldn’t really be a better, not yet. There was one more act to come.
“Here, baby. Give me your hands.”
He unhooked her cuffs from the top beam and brought them behind her head. She’d forgotten she even had the collar on, and stood with docile obedience as her wrists were clipped on short tethers to the ring at the back of her neck.