Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (90 page)

“Not tonight, girl.”

He palmed her seething, soft sex, easing the lips open as he caressed it, her heated fluids surprisingly hot upon his skin.

“Do you think you’ve had enough? Shall I redden those thighs too? Or have you learned your lesson?”

Her nodding was instant, frenzied.

“Good.” He pulled her up then, and she winced when her buttocks made contact with the seat. She looked up at him finally, strands of her long dark hair stuck to tear-streaked cheeks. Her eyes were swollen and red, her nose running. He didn’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful to him.

Aroused by her crying? Depraved indeed, Lukanos.

She met his eyes then, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Come here,” he whispered, and she surprised him by flinging herself into his arms. He held her in silence then, squinting his eyes against the setting afternoon light pouring through the windows of the transport. He let her sob against his neck, her arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands clutching her swollen, hot buttocks.

“Shh, it’s all over now. You were so brave. I know having the doctor handle you wasn’t easy.” He tried to tug her head off her shoulder, pulling gently upon her hair. “I can’t get your gag off, if you’re doing that. Would you like your gag off?”

Her head flew back, and she met his gaze, nodding, fresh hope in her welling eyes.

Unsnapping the catch from behind her head, he eased the bit from between her pretty white teeth. The corners of her lips were pink and inflamed. He touched them gently. “I’m sorry about that, girl. We’ll get something for that when we get home.”

“Th-thank you... sir. I’m...sorry.”

“It’s all forgiven.” He smiled at her and her blush returned. He thought she might speak, her lips moving slowly, then she tilted her head a little, her pupils beginning to grow larger.

Then she pressed her soft, tear-soaked lips to his mouth, shocking him into utter stillness. He let her kiss him for a few seconds, then submerged his hand in her tangled hair, pulling her back.

“What—”

She kissed him again, even harder then—and he kissed her back, tasting her tears, her fear, her abandon, and perhaps even her affection—for the very first time. The tip of her little tongue slipped between his lips, touching his, and he growled, clenching his fist in her tresses, his lust overpowering him. He pulled her away, staring into her eyes, seeing nothing in them but the desire he felt. He pressed his lips to hers feverishly, tasting her, possessing her, her moans wordless but soul-deep, as he hauled on her hair, exposing her vulnerable, pale throat to his lips, his teeth, his rumbled threats, his whispered promises.

He could take no more then, his cock angry, aching, and he pulled her close again, tucking her head under his chin, needing her there, against him, in his arms.

His.

She burst into tears again, clutching him with a strength out of all proportion to her size. He murmured and cooed to her, savoring every last millisecond of the sweetness found in simply holding her.

It was more than that though, it was the breaking down of her walls, of her surrender. There was more going on here than just a punishment of an errant slave. A bond had grown between them. He wasn’t sure what sort it was precisely, but he knew they both felt it.

The question was, what in space was he going to do about it?

*****

W
incing as she knelt before him, her hot buttocks ached as she spread them on her heels. She’d never experienced pain like that before, and yet, when the spanking was done, her entire body seemed to hum with energy, her consciousness heightened to a state that shocked her to her core. The insane urge to hug him after her punishment, to be close to him, was as irresistible as the tide. It didn’t make any sense, yet it was real, as real as the hulking man sitting on the bed before her.

He’d made her drop to her knees as soon as they’d entered his bedchamber. Finally, he’d let her watch—and finally she’d gotten a chance to drink in that delicious body of his.

Was it wrong that she lusted after the body of the man who’d abducted and enslaved her? If it was, it didn’t matter here—at least not to her. He was masculinity personified, and as he disrobed, she positively drooled as she watched.

He was built like a linebacker—though much more heavily muscled. From the shoulders more massive than any she’d ever seen, to the sweep of the lat muscles of the back down to a flat belly that made her want to lick every inch of the defined, powerful abdominals, he had her almost panting by the time he’d fully disrobed.

Then he was standing over her, his hands on his hips, his heavy cock rising higher by the second until it reared over her, the saliva in her mouth going dry almost instantly.

“You’re going to be taking care of this tonight, slave girl. Now, go over to the bed and kneel down next to it.”

She scurried over as fast as her legs would take her, the vision of that huge penis seared into her brain. She still wasn’t sure how it was possible that she’d been able to take that monster, but she had—though it had stretched her to the limit. The pain and pleasure had been indistinguishable from the other as he’d thrust inside of her, the storm of sensation so overpowering she hadn’t known how to process it.

So she’d simply surrendered to it.

Now as she watched him walk into his bathroom, all she could concentrate on was the roundness his firm, muscular buttocks. Like the rest of him, they bespoke immense strength, the kind of strength that spoke to the most primitive, ancient needs of women.

Jesus, you’re in trouble here—in more ways than one.

He strolled back into the bedroom, the heavy truncheon of his erect penis swinging before him. Then he sat on the bed in front of her, his glittering gaze pinning her in place.

“You’ll use your mouth on this”—he pointed at his penis, the thick organ bobbing in time with his pulse—“anytime you’re disciplined. Then you’ll be put to bed without an orgasm. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes... sir.” She tried to swallow some moisture into her parched mouth. “But I... I can’t take that...it’s...”

“It’s not too big. We’ll teach you how to do it.” He wrapped a huge six-fingered hand around the shaft, stroking up and down, the veins bulging as he squeezed it at its base, the broad head flaring, swollen. “Now, open your mouth, girl.”

She obeyed, her heart beating frenetically at the prospect. Her sex was already wet once more, and the prospect of having to endure sucking his cock with no reciprocation at all was a bitter pill to swallow.

He must have seen her emotions on her face for he tapped the big purple head against her cheek, his grin one of pure lust. “This is part of your punishment. A slave girl who doesn’t know how to obey, doesn’t deserve orgasms. So, instead she services her Master’s cock as thanks for his taking the time and effort to correct her. Now, get to work and stop pouting.”

Phillip was a good size, and yet, she’d learned to take him into her throat, with a little practice. The penis throbbing against her tongue now was something else
entirely
. Drawing him in, she licked up the big, salty drop of precome at the head before taking him deeper. He groaned his approval, his hands caressing her cheeks as he murmured to her to take more, as far as she could go. Obeying, her lonely nipples throbbing, the very air currents seeming to caress them, she opened her throat—and promptly gagged. She tried twice more, but was unable to accommodate the broad head of his cock, retreating each time as tears welled in her eyes, the reflex making her cough.

He smiled indulgently at her. “You tried, anyway.” His fist closed in her hair, as his smile disappeared, a look of pure avarice shining in his blue eyes. “Now, suck on the head only.”

She complied, the slurping sounds, and the drip of her saliva down her chin, making her blush furiously. He ordered her to lick him then and she bathed the length of him with her tongue, even taking his balls into her mouth. She was just able to manage that at least, to his approving murmurs, and she left them with a soft kiss, returning to licking and sucking upon the veined thickness of his shaft.

He groaned, falling back onto the mattress, his grip on her hair pulling her up on her knees so that she was between his thighs, her breasts swinging just below his heavy scrotum as she sucked him in earnest. In moments, his impossibly thick cock swelled even further upon her tongue, and he pulled her head away, ordering her to sit on her heels. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she met his gaze, and he grinned at her.

“Hold up those breasts. Offer them to me, slave girl.”

She did, her cheeks burning bright, even as she wished she could taste his cock upon her tongue once more. Servicing him in that way, should have felt demeaning, but there was no room for that anymore. She was his slave, and as such, a part of her—a very twisted one she didn’t know existed—felt a sense of rightness, almost justice, that she should perform this for her Master. A very concrete way of showing her contrition—and her obedience to his wishes.

He stroked the thick penis once, twice, a third time, the veins standing out at the base of his neck, the corded muscles of his massive forearms bunching. Then he let go a strangled groan, throwing his head back, and thick, pearly arcs of semen leaped from the tip of his cock, the hot liquid splashing upon the slopes of her proffered breasts, soaking her, wetting her chest and even the base of her throat with his essence.

His growled order to her to rub it into her skin made her blush blaze, but she obeyed, looking down as she massaged the viscous fluid into her soft breasts until her skin shone with it.

Mortified, aroused and confused all at once, she watched him in silence as he regained his breath, his penis slowly softening, the sight as touching as it was erotic. She was already looking forward to watching it swell again.

You’ve lost your mind.

Rather than chain her up and lay her down on her cot, as he usually did, he took her into his bed, that night, drawing her close to his hulking form. The heat of his body was welcome all through the night, as he kept his room quite cool. She did little actual sleeping until deep into the night, finally drifting off as she lay across his chest, her head rising and falling with the gentle breathing found only in slumber.

Before sleep claimed her though one thought repeated in her mind.

You can’t let him in. If you do, you’re lost.

She feared it was already too late.

Chapter Eight

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T
he grav-repulser unit was originally designed to hold—and slowly rotate—an art exhibit. A sculpture, to be more precise. With a software upgrade and a couple of minor tweaks, he found it worked quite well for displaying a human too.

He took his meal on the rooftop that night, enjoying the warmth of the evening, and the brilliance of the stars in the sky. It had taken him some time to get used to the Terran night sky, nearly barren as it was of stars compared to his home. With time, it had grown on him, the sight of the smudge of the galactic disc—the humans called it the Milky Way—stretching across the sky. It held its own sparse beauty.

The beauty of the woman bound and slowly rotating before him was anything but sparse.

Not for the first time, she’d drifted off to sleep in the warm, vibrating hum of the embrace of the energy bands. He stared at her as he ate, his eyes tracing every stripe, mark, and welt still sported by her body. He’d been disgusted at his weakness the morning after he’d taken her into his bed, and he’d resolved to return their dynamic to where it was supposed to be.

He’d used her in every room of his home—sometimes more than once—and she’d danced, and cried, and wept to the tune of as many implements as he dared use upon her clear, pale skin. For days, he’d kept at her, rarely allowing her much rest from either his cock or his whip.

But still, it hadn’t changed it. It hadn’t changed how he felt—the affection for her that grew more each day. Yes, he treated her like a sex toy, a slave in all ways, but she was a loved one. Though he’d read it risked spoiling a slave—more than one of the accounts from other human owners warned of this—he loved her orgasms. It was almost as wonderful as watching her bottom shudder and redden under his paddle.

Watching her face flush, her mouth drop open, her panting pleas until her eyes rolled back as he forced over the edge again and again, was equal parts fascinating and arousing. Many a time he’d bring her to the pinnacle repeatedly, whether with his fingers, his cock, or his tongue, and she’d plead with him to relent—delirious, exhausted, wrung out.

And he’d rarely given in to her pleas.

He’d begun her course with the anal trainers, not sure yet if he’d actually use her ass, but knowing for certain that he delighted in making her submit her bottom hole to the increasing stretching afforded by the graduated metal phalluses. He’d stumbled upon her responsiveness to anal stimulation quite by accident, investigating her gaping anus after removing one of the trainers. She’d moaned and pleaded with him to take her as he’d traced her stretched rim with a finger, watching mesmerized as it slowly returned to a tight, dusky whorl.

It wasn’t long before he’d discovered she could come solely from anal penetration alone, though it took her longer, leaving her inevitably drenched in sweat at the end, her panting, and moaning like sweet music to his ears. How many lost cries had she uttered as after a particularly arduous climb to orgasm, he’d promised her he wasn’t even close to being done playing with her bottomhole?

Still, every time he’d taken her as far as he thought she was capable, he needed her to know he was there with her for all of it, never alone, never neglected. He shouldn’t have spent so many hours bathing her, pampering her, kissing her all over her body, caressing her freshly bathed, fragrant skin—but he did.

And each night, he couldn’t bear to chain her up on her lonely cot, depriving them both, instead taking her into his bed, his slave asleep in his arms a quiet pleasure that had no equal.

Sitting there watching her rotate, the energy bands holding her limbs outstretched, his seed still dripping from between very swollen cunt lips, he feared it was hopeless.