Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I bit my lip as I obeyed, swallowing hard at the feel of the stout, unyielding wood.
The first spank landed with a sudden, sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain through my body. I gasped, the sensation a too-familiar, still bewildering mix of agony and arousal. Another strike followed, deliberate and firm, eliciting a cry from my lips.
He spanked me hard and fast, alternating between my left and right cheeks, moving his hand up and down to ensure that my entire backside glowed hot and all the need vanished from my pussy.
My cries and sobs echoed through the big room as the punishment seemed to go on and on. The leather of the chair creaked beneath him as I couldn’t help struggling despite his absolute control over my body, and my little movements made him shift his weight slightly.
I watched my tears form a little pool beneath my face. The scent of leather filled my nostrils, mixed with a hint I knew, with a surge of heat in my face, as my own need—a potent mixture that only added to my confusion and distress.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back the desperate moans that threatened to slip past my lips. Every strike sent a searing wave of pain through my lower back and down my thighs. I held on to the chair’s legs with a white-knuckled grip.
He kept spanking, and the pain became so much that I started to scream, and to struggle more fiercely, out of sheer reflex. I let go of the chair and threw my right hand back in a desperate attempt to cover my backside.
Marcus stopped the punishment for a moment so he could grab my hand and pin it behind my back.
“There we go,” he said, his satisfaction audible. “That’s the first step. Now we keep going until you’re really ready to obey me and show me how naughty you really are.”
CHAPTER 8
Marcus
I kept spanking Sophia. The sharp, stinging slaps of my hand against her bare bottom echoed through the training room, each strike more forceful than the last. Her cries of pain had lost any hint of pleasure, morphing into pure, raw anguish that reverberated in the mirrored salon. Her body trembled over my knee, each convulsion a testament to the torment she endured.
My Guard training had prepared me for this moment. I trusted in the ideas and methods drilled into me—above all an unwavering belief in the power of dominance to awaken submission. Delacroix needed Sophia thoroughly broken in; her role as his sexual servant demanded no less. My confidence in taking her this far didn’t represent mere arrogance; it sprang from true necessity. Each punishing swat would carve out space within her, making room for the submissive sexuality she would need if she were to find some degree of fulfillment in her servitude.
“Sir,” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a breathless plea.
“Quiet,” I commanded, tightening my grip on her wrist, under the looped leather of her leash’s end. My strikes continued, relentless, until I saw the fiery red glow spread across her bottom. The heat radiated from her skin, palpable against my palm. Her resistance waned with each blow, and finally, she went limp over my knee, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The spanking stopped, but I watched with satisfaction as her arousal surged immediately and unmistakably, her rising need evident in the way her hips subtly pressed against my thigh.
“Breathe deeply now, Sophia,” I instructed, mixing both command and a hint of encouragement in my tone. Her compliance came swiftly, though her breaths remained labored, each inhale trembling with residual pain and burgeoning desire.
Her body seemed like a paradox of soreness and readiness. I could practically feel her arousal in my own nervous system, a magnetic pull that threatened to disrupt my focus. The sight of her nakedness over my knee, accentuated by the collar around her neck, was almost too much. My cock strained against my trousers, an iron bar of need that I ruthlessly suppressed. Falling for her, allowing myself to succumb to this attraction, would only complicate my mission.
“Good girl,” I whispered, my voice softening involuntarily. The words slipped out before I could stop them, a betrayal of the steely resolve I needed to maintain.
“Please,” she murmured, her tone laden with confusion and longing. She didn’t understand the depths of her own desire, not yet.
I delivered the final swats, each one deliberate, exacting. Her cries turned into sobs, her body completely pliant under my control. When I finally stopped, her bottom glowed a deep crimson, the heat a clear indicator of the thorough punishment she’d received.
Knowing fully how dangerous it would be to my resolve, I began to caress Sophia’s thoroughly spanked bottom, my hand moving in slow, deliberate circles over the heated, crimson skin. Her body shivered at my touch, a delicate tremor that spoke of the tumultuous emotions warring within her.