Have a Wicked Wednesday! everyone!
“You’ve just crossed the line, little girl.”
His eyes glared across the table at her, burning into her, alighting a heat deep within her, a tightening in her thighs, a tingle between her legs, a flush spreading over her cheeks.
She knew how the night would end… with her naked, marked, bruised, and entirely used.
But not before he disciplined her fully.
They finished their meal without further conversation, the tension at the table palpable, making the pretty young waitress nervous.
He drove them home in silence, she knew better than to try to engage with him. Pulling into the driveway, he cut the engine and turned to her, “Out. Inside, now.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and went into the house, directly to the living room and knelt on the floor, her head bowed, waiting. She listened as he locked the front door, walked through the living room, ignoring her, and went into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, taking his time.
She heard him re-enter the room and kept her head lowered, watching his feet walk around her, circling slowly. Her head was suddenly, roughly jerked back. A handful of her hair painfully wrapped in his fist, her neck straining and stretched, he leaned down, his breath hot on her ear, “What did you do little one?” he growled.
“I disrespected you Sir,” she whispered, a tear spilling from her eye, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. She gasped as his other hand gripped her jaw, squeezing hard and then came the slaps, sharp, across one cheek, then the other.
“You will not repeat that slutty behaviour again, will you?”
“No. I am sorry Sir. I’m so sorry,” she wept, black mascara rivers running into her hairline.
His fingers brutally smudged her burgundy lipstick over her face, “Let’s make you look like the little slut you are!”
“Stand,” he released her hair and she rose unsteadily to her feet, “Strip.”
She immediately unzipped her dress and allowed it to fall to the floor, unclasped her bra, stepped out of her pants and stood before him in just her hold ups and black leather heels.
He struck her, a sudden, hard slap across her breast, followed by another, his fingers roughly squeezing and pulling her nipples, stretching them until she felt they would be ripped from her body. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, still red and stinging from his blows. The trail of watery mascara and smeared lipstick ruining her pretty face.
“Go stand in the corner. Face to the wall. Think about what you did.”
Wiping her tears with the heel of her hand, she did as she was told, hating it. She would rather endure a beating than be left, ignored and alone as he settled in his chair to read his Kindle.
He knew this, which is why it was the perfect punishment for her. He smiled to himself as he read his eBook…
Shivering, cold and truly fed up, her legs and feet aching from her high heels, she tried to figure out how long she had been in the corner. She wished he would release her, but she knew she had brought this on herself.
He had read for a while and then left the room, coming and going several times, never speaking to her or acknowledging her presence. She longed for his arms around her, to be held and caressed. To be pardoned for her misdemeanor.
“Well, little one? Have you had enough time to repent?” she startled at his voice and the heat of his body at her back. Nodding her head vigorously, she replied, “Yes Sir! I am truly sorry. Please may I be forgiven?”
Hands gripping her shoulders, he turned her around to face him, “Good girl. Now… I am going to use you, and I am going to hurt you. You will be my little fucktoy tonight,” he grinned wickedly, and she felt the wet heat flare between her thighs again.
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