Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
It definitely should not have caused a wave of arousal to course down my spine and settle like warm, liquid metal in the center of my core.
“With e-stim play, anticipating a shock is as sensually torturous as the shock itself. Wouldn’t you agree, my naughty little pony?” he asked as he rubbed the rod of the crop between my pussy lips.
My mental focus was fixated on the leather keeper. My breath seized in my lungs every time it moved close to my clit.
Matteo chuckled as he went down on his haunches. The underside of his arm brushed my still overly stimulated right nipple as he continued to work the rod between my pussy lips. “My poor baby, did you think only the tip was electrified?”
My eyes widened as I cried out in protest.
To my horror, he pressed the button on the handle again. The rod of the riding crop sent a zing of electricity straight to my clit, sending an intense vibrating pulse straight through the vulnerable nub.
The moment the pulsing ebbed, he shocked me again.
A low, keening wail slipped from my throat. I was helpless to stop his erotic punishment.
“Is my naughty pony starting to understand how this works?”
I whimpered.
“Right now, I’m only using the low setting, but if you should disobey me…”
He left the rest of his threat unsaid.
I shook my head again, hopefully conveying to him he would not need the higher setting.
There was a tug behind my head as he loosened the gag. He pulled it from between my lips and over my chin, then rose to tower over me.
“You don’t speak without permission. Do you understand?”
My tongue flicked out to lick my dry lips as I nodded.
He ran the riding crop up my other inner thigh. “Who is your master?”
My voice trembled as I answered. “You are.”
“Brava ragazza.”
Dark and twisted pleasure poured over me at his praise.
He gently tapped my pussy with the keeper. “You’ve disrespected your stable master with how you’ve behaved. Show me how sorry you are for being a bad little pony by asking me to whip your pussy.”
“Oh my God, please don’t!”
He whipped my inner thigh.
I yelped in pain.
“That wasn’t what I asked. Do you need me to put the gag back?”
I shook my head.
“Then tell me what I want to hear.”
A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. “Please, I’m sorry I was mean to Lucia. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Not good enough. You’ve made it clear that your pretty promises are worthless. The only way you are going to change is through the disciplinary kiss of the lash, like a true wild pony.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to confess everything to him.
To tell him I was Ella, not Antonia.
That I wasn’t his intended bride, in the hope he would spare me the humiliation of his punishment, but in a flash of clarity, I realized it would be in vain.
Whether I was pretending to be Antonia or being myself, I had still shown him the ultimate disrespect by behaving deplorably to his staff after being offered a kindness.
A shiver racked my body. I opened and closed my mouth several times but couldn’t force the words out. Finally, after swallowing past the dryness, I whispered, “I was a very bad pony. Please punish me.”
He lifted his arm and swatted me between my legs several times, ignoring my cries.
Then, to my embarrassment, just when I thought I couldn’t take the painful stinging anymore, he forced the rod between my pussy lips again and shocked me.
But this time he didn’t stop at just one pulsing shock.
CHAPTER 24
MATTEO
Her slim thighs quivering with each pulse from the e-stim riding crop I held was easily one of the most erotic sights I had ever laid eyes on.
I had lost my temper a precious few times in my adult life.
My father had drilled into me from a very young age that anger was one of the easiest emotions for an opponent to weaponize. Other emotions, such as love or even lust, required time to develop before a target could be manipulated, whereas anger could be instantly triggered, like a bolt of lightning.
Upon docking and racing overland back to the winery, I discovered with fury the poor impression my disobedient bride had made with her unexpected early arrival.
It was after I had taken a shower and gone down into the kitchen in search of something to eat that I heard Lucia crying. She hesitated at first to tell me why. Then, because she was a kind soul, she tried to blame herself.
She sniffed. “Please, it was all my fault. She was tired from her trip. I had to have bored her with my endless chatter. It was presumptuous of me to bring up a tray after she said she was worn out. And she seemed very upset that I rudely interrupted her phone call with Tony.”