Toxic - Zoe Blake Page 0,34

in our lives. I wouldn’t be making that same mistake again.

Sizing up the two padded platforms, one bracketed on top of the other, Elizabeth climbed onto the higher platform, the one with the stirrups. Wisely remembering that was the one I preferred for her more severe punishments, my smart little girl knew there was no hope in angering me further by placing herself on the lower platform in the hopes she would get away with a simple, forceful mouth fuck as her punishment.

As she sat on the platform and was about to lean back and place her feet in the raised stirrups, I stopped her.

“On your stomach.”

Her face crumpled as her mouth opened on a silent sob.

She knew what being on her stomach meant, knew the pain she was about to endure.

Flipping onto her stomach, Elizabeth placed her knees in the smooth cups at the base of the stirrups and pointed her toes high before stretching her arms high above her head.

Circling the chair, I tightened the leather restraints around each ankle before moving to her wrists.

“You should feel honored, my love. Prince Albert first designed this chair specifically for a brothel in Paris. You are experiencing history in its original locale with this punishment.”

She didn’t respond.

Feeling for the small brass crank below the upper platform, I turned it as I watched the stirrups swing outward, opening her legs painfully wide.

Elizabeth cried out but was powerless to stop it.

Releasing the crank, my hand went to the buttons on my shirt, then my cuffs. Shrugging out of the confining garment, I tossed it on the bed as I made my way to a carefully concealed cabinet built into the wall. As I pulled down on the hidden lever, the cabinet doors sprang open, revealing many whips, paddles, restraints, and insertion implements.

Knowing I would be too dangerous with a whip this evening, I selected a riding crop with a particularly long leather keeper and a lightweight bamboo shaft.

Returning to Elizabeth, I placed the leather keeper under her chin and raised her head. Looking down the shaft of the riding crop before meeting my eyes, she sobbed.

“Please, Richard! I’m sorry!”

“I know, little one. But I also know you need this. You’ve become wild and are now a danger to yourself. I am only doing this for your own good.”

“Please don’t!” she wailed.

“You begging me not to punish you only proves how much you need this punishment. You didn’t honestly think you could run away from me in the middle of the night and only get off with a quick ass fucking, did you? Your mind is filled with chaotic thoughts, which are leading you to reckless conclusions. After tonight, your only thought will be of the pain and of me. Things will be more simple and uncomplicated then.”

“I’m scared,” she whimpered.

Leaning in close, I kissed her forehead, then whispered into her ear, “You should be.”

Circling around to the end of the chair, I stood between her legs, which were stretched obscenely wide. The upholstered platform of the chair ended at her lower abdomen, which allowed easy access to both her cunt and ass. With her legs stretched open, both her small puckered hole and the delicate lips of her pussy were vulnerable to the lash. Her dark hole was still red and a little open from the brutal fucking I had given her less than two hours earlier. It still being sore and gaping would allow this punishment to be that much more effective.

If this were a proper punishment, I would also shove a piece of ginger up her ass so she might feel the burn both inside and out, but given the late hour, that would have to wait till tomorrow’s discipline session.

Adjusting the grip of the riding crop in my hand, I asked her again, “What have you done to deserve this, Elizabeth?”

“I’ve been a bad girl,” came her muffled response as she buried her head in the soft fabric of the chair. The muscles of her thighs and ass cheeks clenched as she anticipated the first strike. She didn’t have long to wait.

Raising my arm, I aimed her first riding crop lash dead center between her ass cheeks.

Elizabeth howled, her body arching as she pulled on the restraints.

Over and over again, I whipped her ass. Watching as dark pink strap marks appeared on the back of her thighs and ass. I had to be careful. This was about her punishment, not my anger. If it became about my anger, we