Home > Monica (Songs of Submission #7.5)(5)

Monica (Songs of Submission #7.5)(5)
Author: C.D. Reiss

“I love you,” I whispered.

He drew his hand back and slapped my ass with full force. I bit back a cry. “Don’t talk,” he growled. “There’s been wholly too much talking between us.”

I nodded.

He folded the belt in two and said, “Open your mouth.” When I did, he put the belt in it. “Bite.”

I bit the leather. It was still warm from hitting me. Had he ever been this cruel and hard? Had he ever been this dominant? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t think.

Then Jonathan put his hands on my hips, and let his c**k touch where I was wet. I bit the belt as if I wanted to swallow it. He didn’t ask for permission to jam his dick into me in one fell stroke, making me grunt into the tanned skin. He didn’t ask if my happiness was required. He just f**ked me. He f**ked me like I wasn’t even there, slapping himself against my burning ass cheeks, a frame of pain for the pleasure between my legs. He pulled my cheeks apart, stretching them, pain everywhere, and drove into me with everything he had, using me mercilessly. I lost myself in him, in the hurt, the rising tide of my emotions. I’d told him I was unhappy, and the weight of the misery fell off me, leaving an empty place for him to fill with his c**k and his searing belt.

I grunted with every thrust. It was coming. The rush of pleasure. My grunts turned to squeals, and he slowed to barely moving.

“I didn’t say you could come.”

I hadn’t had to ask permission for an orgasm in six months. I hadn’t even thought of it.

He removed the belt.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I gasped. “May I come?”

“When?”

“Now?” I paused for a hitched breath. “And later, if it pleases you.”

“No.” He slowed, letting me feel every inch of him. He opened my cheeks again, right where my legs met my ass and I was red and sore, getting his whole length in.

I choked out a half sob, half moan.

“No,” he said, slapping my ass. “The answer is still no.”

“I don’t think I can stop it.”

He pulled out. I gasped. But as much as I expected him to continue f**king me, I didn’t expect what he did next, quickly guiding himself to my ass**le and mercilessly pushing forward.

“No!” I shouted.

He yanked my head back by the hair. “What?”

I couldn’t repeat it. Safeword or no, he’d stop. “Nothing.”

He pushed the rest of his c**k in my ass without preamble, my soft weeping turned into face-soaking sobs. “God, oh God it hurts.”

“Pain is the point, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your ass is mine, whether I warn you or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He yanked my hair again, pulling back until I faced him. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

The first few strokes were murder. I felt torn apart, ripped from the inside. We’d done some gentle, well-lubricated anal in the past few months. But not like this. Not as a beating.

“You’ve been a bitch, goddess. That’s over. From now on, you step when I say walk. You eat when I feed you. You come when I allow it. If I so much as look at your knees, you get on them and open your f**king mouth.”

I grunted. He reached around me and put his palm to my throat. He pulled me back, and though I felt like I was falling, I trusted him and put weight on my aching legs, shifting back. He sat on the piano bench, and with my back to his front and his c**k in my ass, I sat into him.

“Spread your legs.” Not giving me a chance to even obey, he yanked my legs apart, squeezing my ass cheeks together, tightening me around his cock. I bit back a cry of pain. “All the way. I want your cunt out.”

I spread my knees, on tiptoes to the floor, fighting for balance. My elbows were still tied behind my back, and when it looked like I’d fall, he pulled me upright.

“Reach back,” he said. “Spread those gorgeous cheeks apart.”

I did, fighting the constraints of my knotted shirt, cursing the stinging skin on my ass as much as I blessed it.

“Now, come down, all the way. All the way. That’s it. Bury me in you.” He reached around and slipped his middle finger in my cunt, gathering wetness, and dragging it to my clit. “You’re not coming until I say. And you’re going to hold back by concentrating on one thing, and one thing only.”

“What, sir?” I groaned, the pleasure in my clit pushing against the pain behind it.

“Pleasing me. So. Fuck. And f**k hard. Go.”

I moved up his length, and back down, his shaft sliding against my anus, friction hot against the dry muscle.

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