My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) (24 page)

“I’m sorry.” The tears tracked down her cheeks. “I made you angry, and now I’ve ruined our night.”

“You are forgiven already. But the consequences are necessary. And our night is far from over. It isn’t ruined completely.”

Maxim pulled his finger out of her, and went to get a new butt plug from his toy bag that he brought into the room with him, slipping the handcuffs and a remote into his pockets. He stood next to her. “We’ll put this in — it will prepare you for me and prevent you from clenching during your whipping.” He stepped up behind her, pulling her back another couple steps. “Bend over and pull both your cheeks apart.”

“Oh, God, Maxim! I don’t—”

“Nyet!” He pinched her still very red backside—hard. She jumped. “You need to stop arguing. We will start giving extras for defiance. How are extras given, Caro?”

“W-with your belt, Sir.”

“Do they hurt?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You said you don’t want to spread your ass for me. What you don’t want is to for me to do it for you. Cheeks apart.” He lubed the plug, and once she was exposed, he worked a dollop of lube into her, pushing in one and then two fingers, priming the tight ring of muscle there. He took the large plug, prodding until the tip slipped into her. “Push back, baby.” The muscles worked, milking it as he pressed against the resistance until it finally slipped into place, the sphincter tightening around the narrow neck.

Not for the first time, he thought women just looked adorable with that flange sticking out between their cheeks. He’d have to make it the only dress requirement on some days, just so he could watch her walk that way and play with it whenever the whim took him.

He tapped on the end, twisting it. “Just checking to see if it is secure.” In reality, there was no actual need to check it. The fluted end ensured the plug wasn’t going anywhere until he was ready. He just liked to twist it, poke it, and tap it, watching her gasp and twist in reaction.

Control.

The subtle message was: I can play with your pussy and ass whenever I want. Watch me.

“Stand.”

She slowly straightened her body, obviously trying not to jostle the toy inside her ass. What he did next was sure to surprise her.

He reached into his pocket and pressed a button three times. The plug came to life, vibrating at an intermediate pulse. Her eyes widened, and she gasped, squeezing her thighs tightly.

“Oh! Oh, shit!”

“Don’t touch it. Only I am able to touch it, or play with it.”

“Oooooo, Maxim!”

“Yes, indeed. And you aren’t allowed to come tonight. No excuses.” He grabbed her elbow, walking her to one of the weight machines that had an overhead metal bar, pulling the handcuffs out of his pocket. He secured one handcuff to her, attaching the other to the bar.

“This is to keep you safe, no? Your hands will stay out of danger, and it keeps you in place.” He dragged a straight-backed chair, over to her. “Kneel on this.”

“Oh, God, this is like your video with Viktoria.”

“Yes, I like doing it this way. You can still sway and wiggle, but only a little. Standing gives you too much ability to move. Come, Caro, kneel.”

“Can you shut that thing off in my butt, please?”

He contemplated it, but then decided that a lesson in not being control was what she needed to learn. “No. I like it being on.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, climbing onto the chair. He raised the bar, stretching her higher. He retrieved a black, leather blindfold from his bag. “I’m going to cover your eyes. This way you don’t see anything to make you twist or stiffen. I need you unaware, and immobile.”

He covered her eyes, checking that everything was secure and safe. “What is your safeword, Caro?”

“I... I’ve never had one. No need. I just fantasize about this.”

Maxim wasn’t surprised. “What would you like it to be?”

“I’ll just go with ‘red.’ I don’t want to forget it.”

“Smart girl. If you are scared or uncomfortable and aren’t sure, say ‘yellow.’ We’ll stop and talk, but go right back to it if all is well.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“This is punishment, Caro. Normally, there is no safeword for that, but we are new — and you need to trust me. You will be punished though. This cannot happen again.”

“You said that the whip is used for… good girl spankings.”

She appeared to be stalling, but she’d find that no amount of questions would stop this punishment. “I said they are usually used for good girl spankings, but they definitely can be used for bad girl ones too. I like to use other implements, because bad girls need spankings that last longer and make more of an impression — which my hand and your hairbrush both did. Now, we will use the whip because it is similar to a switch. Only a few will be required, but the sting will last.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice small.

He clicked the button on the remote, switching to another level on the plug. The new pattern was a long pulse, followed by two short pulses. He slid the end of the small whip against her flesh, watching her struggle. Her fists tightened, and she jerked her hips forward. Stiffening her body, she quivered, her thighs trembling. Her body went rigid and she shivered, pushing her ass out, slowly swiveling.

He loved to watch a woman writhing in restraints. He pulled back, and with a slow and steady swing of his arm, let the tail of the whip hit the fleshiest part of her bottom. Hitting her harder on the first stroke had been purposeful, as it gave him an idea of how much pain she could tolerate. Her shout would be an indication of her limits later on.

“Oh, shit! God!”

“No swearing. Those are extras with the belt, remember?” Before she could answer, he swung the whip again, and she gasped. He struck again, her response a broken sob. Three distinct lines had risen upon the crest of her bottom.

“You will eat the meals I give you, yes?”

“Yes, Sir. I promise!” Her legs had a slight tremble to them.

“You will not take pills. And I will be checking your trash at home and at work. Random checks.”

She froze, never anticipating that he’d go to that extreme apparently to that level. Avery had helped her stop before, but must not have gone that far. “You will give me Avery’s phone number, so I can ask what she did when she helped you, yes?”

“Yes, Sir. Avery will be… upset.”

“She should be. You need to be ashamed of yourself, girlie. You worked hard to overcome this, to fall into it this easily says that you are only partially cured of this terrible illness.”

She started to cry. He’d done it. Now the lesson would be more valuable to her.

“We will work on this. You will learn to love your healthy body. There is no need to hate yourself, and until you can love yourself the way you need to, I will love you enough for both of us.”

“Okay.”

“How do you answer?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task at hand. “We finish. Four more.”

He struck the whip against the underside of her bottom, and before she could recover, he whipped in another stroke next to it. Each crack of the whip made her body stiffen. Her shout let him know that she was nearing her limit — it was almost the same intensity as her first lash. She cried, sobbing and coughing, trying to catch her breath.

Crack! Crack!
He loved the sound of a whip, immediately followed by the loud cry or screech of a woman. The last two lashes landed across the upper thighs. She bounced on her knees, bending her body as much as the restraints would allow, giving him a peak at that beautiful rosebud filled with the plug. Her pussy glistened with the excess of her arousal.

“Oooh! Oh, Maxim. I’m so sorry! So... sorry. “

He dropped the whip into his bag, then undid her blindfold, gently kissing her lips. “You are forgiven. It’s over, and you did so well. We’ll move on from this now, and get this figured out.”

He unlocked the handcuffs, rubbing the stiffness from her arms, and holding her against his chest. Once her tears had stopped and the hitching eased in her chest, he turned her to face the back of the chair again. “Lean over the back of the chair, holding the spindles. I’m taking this hot, spanked, fucking gorgeous ass now.”

He unzipped his pants, letting his hard cock spring forward, stroking the silky length while Caroline moved into position. “Stick that ass out.” He cupped her sex with one hand, her juices coating it, while he examined her buttocks with the other. The stripes were an angry red and would definitely itch as they got increasingly sore. But he’d done no real damage. Still cupping her, he eased his middle finger into her tight seam, not stroking or tapping, just resting the pad of his finger on top of her clit, her hips already swiveling.

“Keep in mind that this isn’t for you. Tomorrow, you’ll find your reward. Right now,
this?
This is for me.” He pulled her plug out, her moan at the loss making him smile. “Don’t worry, Caro. I’ll fill you more than that damn toy.”

He entered her anus, pushing slowly at first, stroking her clit lightly, increasing her arousal, keeping her on the edge of an orgasm. When her mantra became “Oh, God,” he thrust faster and harder, pinching her clit between his fingers. Pinching hard enough that her arousal cooled. He meant what he said — she wouldn’t be finding her release tonight. Going to sleep hungry for his cock would add to the pain of her punishment.

Her ass felt so hot against his groin, and placing both hands on the marked bottom, he stared at his handiwork, feeling satisfied that a lesson had been imparted. Staring at the marks, the stark evidence of punishment well done, always made him hard, the possession inherent in the act driving his arousal higher. The dominance of taking a woman marked with his handprints or by the implement he controlled was hard to describe to some. He had a need to wield a whip with control of not just the surroundings and the sub, but also of his own emotions and physical strength. It was all a form of discipline and love. In his mind, it was no different than bathing or feeding a sub, all of it a demonstration of care and concern, a need to coddle the one you love —whether in the form of nurturing, or discipline.

He slowly pulled out, then thrust in hard and fast, jerking her body with each plunge, her low groans urging him on to push in harder and faster. Pistoning into her, he invaded her body, overcoming her reservations, gripping her hips harshly, the warm skin searing against his palms, the sounds of his hips smacking against her ass filling the air.

“Fuuuuuck!” she screamed, her hot cunt orgasming, her ass pushing back, jerking in time with the tremors overtaking her body. Her tight buttocks constricted in response around his cock, sending him over the edge, making him growl as he shot his semen into her dark channel, thrusting with each spurt, until his body collapsed over her, spent and sated.

“Jesus!” He gasped for air, unable to move, his body tingling with his release. “Weren’t you told not to orgasm?”

She stopped breathing for a moment, stilling under him. Caroline finally took in a slow breath. “Yes, Sir. It just... happened.”

“That means you enjoyed it?”

“Yes, Sir. Very much.”

He pulled out of her, grabbing some wipes from his bag, cleaning both of them up. “We will deal with that tomorrow. If you are good girl, I may forgive it.” He slapped her hip. “Come. Let’s go cuddle in the living room. Then we eat.”

He picked her up, despite her shouts of protest.

“Stop! I can carry you.” He sat in her large chair with the matching ottoman, her body a perfect fit, molded to his lap.

He tucked her head to his shoulder, throwing a light throw blanket over them both, quietly stroking her, enjoying her soft, warm body against his.

“Caroleena, tell me why you need to be upset about your body?”

She lay quietly, pondering the question before answering. “I’m not sure. I think it goes back to my mother, who was always skinny, and my father who thought it was funny to tease me about my body as a teenager.” She paused, and he didn’t interrupt, letting her formulate her thoughts.

“If I looked to my mother, I always felt fat, that I would never measure up to her. My father teased me about my “fat butt” or “birthing hips” most of my high school years. I learned to hate that part of my body. But if I starved myself and used vomiting or laxatives, I could make myself look thinner. Sure, I wasn’t happy, but what’s the old saying? ‘Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.’ I made that my mantra.”

“Until Avery helped you to stop.” He ran the back of his knuckles over her soft arms, pulling her in tighter for a hug.

“Yes. But, you’re right. I must not have recovered as well as I hoped, if I was able to revert this quickly. I thought it was gone. I mean, I had gained weight, I hadn’t used pills, or done anything like that for years. Being made fun of by Derek didn’t help any. I just wanted to show him that I wasn’t some fat, frumpy thing.”

He leaned away from her, tilting her chin up. “What does Derek have to do with this?” He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “One day after a meeting, he had said that I’d be able to get a man if I lost twenty pounds. It’s the reason I hired you. I wanted to show him that I could lose weight, that I wasn’t some ugly, fat thing.”