Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (88 page)

“And I’ll teach it to you, Alisse. Now, up and climb over my lap.”

He wouldn’t let her keen mind whither in the confines of her captivity. He intended to exercise her intellect just as much as he’d exercise her body. She would lose her spark without knowledge, without stimulation, and he would make sure to give her plenty of both.

But first, it was his time to be selfish—and to impress upon her what being an owned plaything really meant.

As she rose to her feet, her legs trembled, the thin fabric revealing the shadow of the hair at the apex of her thighs. His cock jerked at the sight, and he clenched his teeth, struggling more each second with his self-control. He wanted her so very badly, but he resolved to take his time with this first use of his new slave.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispered as she laid her soft belly against the corded muscle of his legs.

“Shh now. Just a little spanking.”

He rucked up the ridiculously threadbare robe, revealing clear alabaster thighs he couldn’t help but stroke. She jerked as he touched her, but otherwise stayed still. The muscles of her legs positively thrummed with tension as he caressed her, unable to stop himself from pinching one inner thigh gently to gauge her reaction. Other than a bitten off yelp, one more of surprise than hurt, she remained docile for his examination of her legs. Then he pulled the robe all the way up, the fabric bunching at the already sweating small of her back. Her round, white bottom took his breath from his lungs, the sheet beauty of it—and the intense arousal that coursed through him at the sight of those broad, vulnerable buttocks—momentarily stunning him, reducing him to staring at her perfection. She was even more gorgeous than he imagined, and he thought ahead to all the times he’d stroke, caress, and punish her beautiful bottom.

Taking up the strap, he gathered her arms and crossed her wrists at her back, holding them with his big hand, her breathing coming in little gasps.

“Now, while you will always be punished for disobedience, Alisse, there will also be times I punish these pretty cheeks simply because I wish it. This is one of those times, and you will accept it obediently just as you would a correction for any wrongdoing, large or small. Do you understand?”

“N-no. I mean yes, but—you don’t have to do this.”

He smiled, and drew back his strap, snapping it down across both buttocks with a satisfying
whack.

The cheeks clenched tightly, the cleft between the sweet buttocks drawing momentarily to a tight seam, a surprised feminine grunt following immediately afterward. A pink band of flesh began to darken upon the broadest part of her bottom. A good first shot, but too light.

Before she could protest, he laid down another, the leather landing with a sharp crack a little higher upon the bounding cheeks, sending a ripple across her smooth flesh before she squeezed tight once more, a loud gasp and a whispered curse her only response.

“You will not curse, especially when being punished, Alisse. Do you understand?”

“Not curse? Are you fu—?”

The paddle landed again, the hardest blow yet, low down across her right cheek only, the tip of the leather biting in between the cheeks, leaving a livid mark just on the inside of her buttock where the flesh began to slope down into darkness. Her shriek was surprising, but immensely satisfying, a heated surge of pleasure coursing down the length of his cock, his balls tightening. He wanted out of his leggings terribly, but with his charge draped over his thighs it wasn’t to be. Not yet.

“Do you understand, Alisse? I asked you a question.” He rested the smooth leather upon her thigh and she froze.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

A fourth and a fifth shot cracked across her bottom, the fifth one crossing one of the now swollen marks from previous blows, each drawing a pained yelp from his charge. He waited until her bottom finally stopped clenching before landing the sixth and last stroke, a harsh strike across the tops of both her thighs, her scream accompanying a frenzied pumping of her legs, in a vain attempt to gain purchase upon the floor. But she was much too high for her feet to so much as brush against the carpet, and he hiked her up still higher, both to emphasize her helplessness, and because it rounded her glorious bottom cheeks even more, yawning them apart a little further, hinting at the anus and furred slot of the sex between her thighs.

He set down his strap, pressed her hard between her shoulder blades. Pulling up her robe once more—for it had worked its way down again, threatening to cover her bottom—he yanked it up until it bunched just under her armpits, revealing the fine, smooth muscles of her pale back, the pleasing trough of her spine. He drew his fingers down this depression, delighting in the play of his fingertips over each vertebrae.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, spotting a prominent birth mark high upon her right hip. He brushed at it with his thumb over and over, as if it were an ink blot he could wipe from her skin. The imperfection only made her more adorable, more desirable.

He could wait no longer.

Flipping her over as he rose to his feet, he laid her upon the bed. Drawing her arms up the mattress until they extended far beyond her head, he bound them to the frame with the black straps he’d had installed following their arrival from Terra. She yanked at the straps, but he gave her a quiet shake of his head, and she ceased her futile efforts at freeing her wrists. Her mouth working, the whites of her eyes shown as he retrieved his aching cock from his leggings. He skinned them down his thighs as she looked upon him.

“That... oh dear God, that... it won’t fit, sir.”

“Nonsense.” He slicked back the foreskin, drawing the broad purple head of his cock through the thick delta of her pubic hair. Humans were smaller, yes, but they could accommodate Yaanfahri males—with not inconsiderable effort. He’d read of some owners who’d put their slaves through a round of stretching to render them more easily able to take full servicing from their owners. Still, human though she was, he had confidence Alisse would be able to take him easily, with time—and a lot of practice.

Her thighs closed reflexively upon him, and he slapped one, then the other, hard, bright red splotches blooming upon her white skin. She yelped at the smart.

“Open them. You never, ever, close your legs to me, Alisse. Remember that.”

His cock bobbing before him, he wrenched her legs as far apart as her flexibility allowed, the tendons of the inner thighs standing taut and trembling. He stroked them with a finger before snaking more black straps around each leg, pulling them snug until she whimpered, her body utterly vulnerable now, the position revealing her soft, swollen labia, the wet, pink slot within quite visible, the trimmed vee atop her mons drawing the eye and his questing fingers, each gentle tug upon the black pubic hair there making her yelp. Slicking back the hood, he used the pad of his thumb to friction the prominent red clitoris until her hips began to buck, her yelps turning to pained moans, whimpered entreaties. Her sex wept its tribute as he knelt between her thighs then. Retrieving the tube he’d set out along with his paddle, he squeezed the cool gel along the length of his member, fisting it over and over as he knelt over her, reveling in the way she watched his hand move up and down his cock until the veined length glistened brightly.

Pressing himself against her soft labia, she yielded slowly, but steadily, a long gasping moan drawn from her as he sank deep inside her.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” she said, breathlessly. “No. No, too much. Oh my
God
.”

But still he advanced, taking her fully. Fiendishly tight around him, he was unable to last long at all, her sex squeezing upon him as he slid still deeper, taking up ever stronger thrusts with each plunge and retreat within her heated depths. Rearing up to work her now very hard clitoris between his fingers as he moved within her, she shrieked, the sound like a lost plea, one they both knew he’d utterly ignore. Her pussy flooding around him, he could hold back no longer, his orgasm exploding through him, his seed filling her as he continued to thrust, her body rocking, helpless, below him. Sagging down upon her for a moment, he met her eyes, watching her watch him at that ultimate moment of possession, her eyes rolling back as his pubic bone ground against her clit.

He nibbled upon her ear lobe, gently biting the soft cheek at her ear. “Welcome home, slave.”

*****

S
till delirious from the mind-shattering orgasm she’d had—and completely against her will—she felt herself lowered down onto something cool, and soft, and yielding.

Opening her eyes, she found him standing over her, while she lay upon a low platform situated along the foot of his massive bed. The material she lay on was a sort of firm, resilient foam, molding itself to her body, the result being a surface so comfortable, she could already feel the draw of sleep pulling her slowly under.

“This will monitor your body heat as you sleep,” he said, nodding toward her. “So no blankets will be required.”

“I... what if I’d like a blanket anyway? Sir?”

The prospect of laying naked, in front of a man whose seed was still seeping out onto her inner thighs—something that made her cheeks heat each time she thought of it—was something she wasn’t exactly looking forward to.

“I like to look upon my possession as she sleeps. No blankets—for now.”

Grumbling, she turned onto her side, facing away from him—she tried not to think of him as Sir, or, God forbid, even Master—if only in her thoughts. It was already becoming entirely too easy to refer to him verbally with either title.

It’s because he knows you, what you really are.

Pulling her legs up, she tried to shield herself as best she could from a chill she anticipated, but didn’t yet feel. She scoffed at the idea that this strange cot would be able to keep her warm all through the night.

Alisse tried not to think about how much she’d rather sleep in his bed—with him next to her.

Would it be so bad? Having that big male body next to her would ensure she’d never go cold—and the prospect of snuggling up to all that masculine muscle wasn’t exactly a horrible thing. She was quite sure she was capable of dealing with such a... hardship.

“Lift your head.”

The command took her by surprise and she turned over onto her back once more. “What?”

“Lift your head.” His voice had grown quieter as he glared down at her.

She was dimly aware of something dangling from one of his hands, but was unable to pull her gaze from his brilliant azure eyes.

“You’ll be bound from now on when you’re put to bed. Can’t have you wandering off without permission, can we?”

A soft collar the color of slate was wrapped around her neck, her heart instantly racing. “W-why?”

“Because I like the idea of you bound to me, even in your sleep,” Lukanos murmured, dropping to a knee to fasten it snugly about her. It put a steady, but tolerable, pressure on her throat, a constant reminder of its presence, of
his
presence.

Incredibly, her nipples began to swell at the feel of it, the knowledge that he’d imposed yet more restriction upon her, imposed yet more of his will upon hers. The sensation of being bound was like none she’d ever experienced, one far more exciting—and terrifying—than anything she’d ever lived vicariously through in one of her favorite smutty reads.

A thin metal chain was clipped to the front of the collar, Lukanos pulling it along with him, swinging it up and onto the foot of his bed. He still clasped the other end of that chain when he slipped under his covers, his eyes glinting in the low light as he looked down the bed toward her, his gaze heated, possessive. And very, very satisfied.

“Go to sleep, Alisse. You’ll need it for what comes tomorrow.”

Chapter Six

––––––––

“T
hank you for fitting us in to the schedule, doctor.”

Alisse sat on a padded table so high her feet dangled well above the floor. She felt more out of place than she ever had. Being brought here, knowing what might be coming, didn’t make her feel any better either. Dressed in a long, tan coat that buttoned close to the neck, and resembling more a monk than a doctor, a strange man was speaking to her Master.

His name’s Lukanos, you idiot. Don’t think like that.

“
We’ll need to make this quick, Lieutenant. I’ve got other clients on the way.” The doctor looked over at Alisse. He had kind eyes, she thought, even though they looked black as night, the irises a cobalt blue that seemed to meld into the jet pupils. “Let’s have off with that robe.”

“No...no, I’ll leave it on.” This wasn’t what she bargained for. Though the doctor seemed kind, she wasn’t about to disrobe in front of the man.

“Alisse, follow his directions as you would mine.” Lukanos crossed his arms, his gaze still indulgent. But the lowering of his voice held an unmistakable word of warning.

“Can’t you just... do what you have to do with the robe on? It’s not like it’s covering that much.” She didn’t need to remind them that her erect nipples were clearly visible under the fabric, the room frustratingly cool.

“You will do what he says.” Lukanos’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the message clear.

She was skating on very thin ice.

“We need to get a look at you to ensure you’re all right. Nothing too terrible now.” The doctor’s finger raised. “Off with it, little dear.”

“No.” She knew it was hopeless, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She wasn’t going to be showing the doctor anything. “It’s totally unnecessary for me to be naked. And besides—it’s
cold
.”

“Oh, dear,” the doctor said, giving her a wan smile.

Faster than she’d ever have believed, she found herself flat on her back, her hard, very naked nipples reaching for the sky, the padded table cool against her skin, a web of straps holding her down so tightly she felt as if she could barely breathe, let alone move. Fortunately, they’d left her head free.

Lukanos leaned over her. “Any more defiance, and I’ll gag you too. You’ve already disobeyed me—don’t make what’s coming any worse. Be good.”