Perfection - Kitty Thomas Page 0,56
your punishment. You know how I like you.”
And now it's back, that throbbing and wetness between my legs. Just like that. So simple. I'm helped into a kneeling position on a soft rug, so I don't have to kneel on the hard floor.
My arms stretch out before me, my palms on the hardwood. My forehead rests there as well.
“Please, Master... not the cane.”
“Yes, the cane,” he practically growls. “You need to remember who you belong to, and nothing drives it home like the cane.”
I'm crying again. But part of it is relief. Because I've given in. I've surrendered. I will do whatever he says. I will do whatever Morgan says. They will punish me, and then they will fuck me, and we will have breached this final boundary between us. And it will all be perfect again.
“You will count,” Sebastian says. “I will give you five, and then Morgan will give you five. Say, yes, Master.”
“Y-yes, Master,” I whisper. I want to beg him because ten is too many. I can't take ten. But I need things back in control. I need to return to the peaceful calm place inside my head that Sebastian gives me.
“Say it so the cheap seats can hear it,” Sebastian says.
Morgan chuckles at this.
“Yes, Master,” I say louder.
“Good girl.”
Everything inside me relaxes at these words.
The cane slices through the air, and I flinch as it strikes my bared ass. But it isn't as hard as the last time he did it, the time when I made thirty-two mistakes. It hurts, it sears and burns into my flesh, but I know he's holding back just enough that I can take it.
“One,” I say. I take long, slow breaths and fall into a rhythm with him. My surrender, his power. This exquisite torment.
After the fifth one, he passes the cane to Morgan.
The sixth strike makes me scream. I thought Morgan was the soft one. The kind one. I’m immediately disabused of this notion.
“Master, please!” I shriek.
Morgan laughs. “It's about time you said my name. Count,” he demands.
“S-six,” I whimper.
“Good girl.”
It's the first time I've heard these words from Morgan, and they’re just as satisfying from his mouth as from Sebastian's.
Seven and Eight are just as hard as Six. I scream with each strike. I worry other people living in this high rise are going to think they're killing me. Wouldn't it be fucked up if some random person called the police on all of us?
Suddenly a hand is gripping my chin, turning my tear-streaked face upward.
“Do I need to gag you?” Morgan asks.
“N-no, Master. Please...”
He pulls back a little on Nine. A welcome relief. But the final lash is just as hard as his first. I bite back the scream and count the last one. I'm so shockingly wet right now.
I feel the cane press against the top of my head. “Lift your head up and kiss it,” Morgan says.
I rise up and kiss the bamboo.
“Now thank me for your punishment.”
“Thank you, Master.”
One of them, I don't know which, dips a finger between my legs and inside my pussy.
“Are you ready to be fucked?” Sebastian asks.
“Y-yes, Master.”
“By both of us? Are you ready to take both of us, together?”
My face flames, but I say, “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”
The finger is withdrawn, and one of them helps me to stand. He leads me to the bedroom. I hear zippers and clothes hitting the floor.
“Straddle and ride me,” Sebastian orders.
He's lying on the bed. My knees are on either side of him. I let out a gasp of pleasure as I lower myself onto his thick, hardened cock. I forgot he was this big. He gives me time to adjust.
“Fuck,” he says. But it isn't an expression of pleasure. It's a command.
I obey, raising and lowering myself on him. I've forgotten for a moment about Morgan, until I feel him licking the cane welts on my ass.
“Poor little rabbit,” he says. He rubs a soothing balm over the marks as I continue to ride Sebastian.
A few moments later, I feel cold lubed metal being worked inside my ass. “Open for me,” Morgan orders. “It's going to be my dick in a minute.”
I try to relax as he pushes the toy inside me. The double-penetration of the toy in my ass and Sebastian in my pussy is overwhelming in a way that erases all logical thought. Every doubt and fear fades away in this moment. Every protest of what I can and cannot do evaporates in the sheer visceral power of