Sake Bomb (26 page)

“The belt,” he said evenly.

She quickly nodded her understanding, and he
released her nipples, dipped to soothe the pain with his satiny
tongue. Kizzie sucked in a breath, taken so fast from one extreme
to the next. She moaned at the heightened sensation in her tits and
he stopped. Then she whined at the loss.

A firm hand on her shoulder, Xander guided
her to the floor. Kizzie maneuvered to her knees, somewhat shocked
she was even doing this, but her entire focus stayed on the gold
buckle at his waist. Her mouth was perfectly aligned with his cock,
straining as it was against his black slacks. She curled her cheek
into his groin, rubbed his length against her face. Turned and
kissed along his hard shaft through the soft material.

Her head jerked away abruptly. “No
liberties,” Xander ordered, gripping a pigtail. “Crystal?”

Eyes narrowed, Kizzie managed a soft, “Yes,
Sir.”

He pulled her head forward again, and Kizzie
stretched up a bit to get access. Using her teeth, she worked the
tucked end free of one side of the buckle, tasting the leather on
her tongue, feeling his cock against her chin. Twisting her head
dislodged the prong.

“This is going to be your favorite
belt.”

Yes, it would.

For tonight, at least.

Melancholy threatened to take over and she
set it firmly aside; looked up to see him watching her.

With the leather freed, she shifted her
attention to the buckle, holding it between her lips as she worked
the belt from around his waist. A familiar hiss sounded as she
dragged it loose until, finally, she tipped her chin up to offer it
to him.

Xander stroked his knuckles down her cheek.
“Good girl.” He took the belt, draped it over her shoulders. Then
he tucked his hands under her armpits and hauled her to her
feet.

Instinctively, her defenses rose at begin
manhandled, but Kizzie breathed through it, maintained her
headspace, let Xander have control. He knelt and smoothed his hands
up her thighs, under the taffeta until his fingers hooked in the
bands of her briefs and lace panties. He pulled the duo down, let
them rest over the ankles of her boots.

Nose pressed to the skirt at the junction of
her thighs, he inhaled; took the belt from her neck and secured it
just above her knees. An arm around her legs, Xander hoisted her
over his shoulder and stood in one swift move.

“Ah!” Kizzie shrieked. Folded over him like
a sack of potatoes, bare ass in the air. “Freddy’s right. You
are
a Neanderthal.” Xander grunted like a caveman and she
giggled. Long, lavender tresses dangled toward his calves and she
remembered the ridiculous outfit. “Can you take the skirt off, Sir?
It itches like a bitch.”

He slapped her thighs and she yelped. “When
I want it off, I’ll take it off.” They passed the bed and went to
the double doors. “I was gonna be nice and just spank you, but
since I’m such a Neanderthal, and you need to learn to watch that
mouth…”

He set her on her feet. “Kneel.”

With her legs effectively cinched shut, it
was slow going. By the time she got into position, Xander was
sitting on the bed some ten feet away. He fixed her with a steady
gaze.

Did he want…? He couldn’t be serious.

The look didn’t wilt.

Arms behind her made balancing wobbly, and
the belt afforded little room to move. Kizzie tested the limits,
edging one knee forward a full centimeter. A shift and she brought
the other knee up, the skin on her legs rubbing together. The
leather dug into her thighs and the thick soles of her boots caught
against each another.

This would take forever.

Scowling, Kizzie flashed a glare at Xander.
Aside from the heat in his eyes, his face was an emotionless
mask.

He enjoyed this, watching her struggle.

She grit her teeth to keep the “sadistic
bastard” confined to the space between her ears. A few more
centimeters forward and Kizzie might as well have been stone still.
Her knees already hurt. Whoever designed hotel rooms should
remember the words padded carpeting and then actually implement
them into the design.

She had to look like a fool. A clumsy,
bumbling clown. The motion was awkward and with each small gain in
ground her scowl deepened. Frustrated, she nudged a bit more and
fell over. Curses streamed from her mouth at a volume only audible
to canines.

“Something the matter?”

“Yeah!” she growled, trying to get to her
knees once more. Her exposed boobs jiggled as ungainly as the rest
of her, adding to her embarrassment. “I didn’t sign up to look like
an idiot.”

“Who says you look like an idiot?”

That calm in his voice piqued her ire.
“
I
do!”

“Hm. And you want to look…graceful? Like
some sub in a book?”

“No…
Sir
,” she added, far too late and
with way too much ‘tude.

“You’re at thirty-three, for the eye
rolling. What’s at the heart of the problem? And don’t lie to me or
I’ll add three more and
really
make those count.”

“I don’t want to do this.” An obvious lie
since she made a point to regain her knees. More precisely, she
didn’t want to do this like
this
. She huffed.

“Oh,” Xander said, unaffected. “Then use
your safe word and be done.”

She didn’t want to do
that
. Head
bowed, a fresh wave of anger rolled over her at having to admit the
truth. “I don’t like…”

Such a tiny admission, resting in her mouth
like a huge ball of raw dough. It made her feel weak and
vulnerable, and she wanted to fight against it with every ounce of
her being.

“
Like
…” Xander prompted.

Another huff. “I don’t like…
sucking
at things, okay?”

“God, I hope you don’t mean that.”

She chuckled.

“Change your attitude. I didn’t ask you to
be graceful, I didn’t ask you to compete with something you read
about.
I
want to see you crawl. Your doing that pleases
me—or it will once you actually move.

“I meant what I said: submission’s not
always easy, Princess, not always fun. It’s always a work in
progress. So if you think this is too hard, I understand,” Xander
assured, tone borderline condescending. “Use your safe word and
this ends right now.”

By the look on his face he was dead serious.
Kizzie shook her head, determined to withstand her own
embarrassment both to prove she could do this and to keep from
disappointing him.

“All right. Thirty seconds to get here,
Kizzie. Better haul ass, ‘cause for every second you’re late, I’ll
add three more smacks.”

A challenge. She could do challenges. Come
hell or high water, she was getting to that bed before the clock
ran out.

“One…” Xander said.

Kizzie pushed past the ache in her knees,
blocked out the ominous counting. She found a rhythm, waddling like
a penguin drunk on moonshine. By no means graceful and she didn’t
give a damn. Xander announced “Thirty-one,” as she reached his
shoe.

Her chest heaved slightly, but he didn’t let
her rest, hauling her up and over his lap.

And that’s when it hit her
:
She’d rushed over for a freakin’ punishment!

The tutu got bunched under her bound wrists,
leaving her ass completely exposed. With her arms tied behind her,
legs cinched closed by the belt, and her panties tangled over her
boots, she was at his mercy.

Xander rubbed a palm over her cheeks,
squeezed the flesh between his hands and then rubbed some more.

“You never answered me.”

It took a great deal of focus to keep from
wiggling on his lap. She couldn’t multitask that with mind-reading.
“Sir?”

“How many times did you touch yourself while
we were apart? Every night?”

Thank god he couldn’t see the heat spread
across her face. She bobbed her head.

“Words…” he said softly, patting her the
same way.

“Pretty much every night, Sir.”

“What did you think about while you got
off?” His fingers trailed down the seam of her pussy, a
barely-there touch.

Her belly tingled and she pressed her knees
together. “I th-thought about you, Sir.”

A pause. “Did you come?”

A grin. “Oh yeah. Every time.”

“And not even remorseful... So what exactly
was I doing that made you come
every time
?”

“This…fucking me…watching me suck you…”

His cock throbbed against her side, and her
pussy clutched. Kizzie had never relished receiving a punishment
before, but now she couldn’t wait. As soon as it was over, she’d
get to feel him inside her, his weight pressing her to the
mattress. She wanted his mouth on hers, wanted to taste him, feel
him in her throat.

“If it gets to be too much…?”

“Red, Sir. I’d say red.”

“Thirty-six.” He palmed her ass again.
Gentle kneading turned firmer. “What do you do after each one?”

“Count, Sir.”

“And?”

And
? She racked her brain but came up
blank. “Umm…” His palm tore away, came back and landed with a
stinging crack.

“
Holy
fuuudg
eballs!” Kizzie
mashed her face against the comforter and grit her teeth.

Xander’s rumbling laugh filled the room.
“Wrong answer. Count and thank your Master. Ready?”

“Shouldn’t that count as the first one?”

“Nope. And now I’ve changed my mind…”

Shit. She’d have to remember to stop
speaking.

“I’ll keep count. As for you…” Xander
whispered instructions that made her face scald. Half a second
later, his hand landed again with a hard
smack!
that shot
right through her. She cried out.

“One.”

Kizzie mumbled her response, throat too raw
to form the words. Xander pinched the sensitive skin on her inner
thigh, and she screamed.

“Don’t play with me,” he ordered, all traces
of laughter gone from his voice. “Say it louder.”

“I may
not
touch Sir’s pussy without
His permission!”

“Good.” He spanked her again, called the
count and she repeated the line without needing the pinch to grow
on.

The assault was unrelenting. He struck her
hard and fast, no pattern that she could determine; no way to prep
herself. She wriggled and squirmed with the impacts, choking out
the words. Her feet lifted after one particularly hard blow,
bringing the attack to a halt.

Oh, thank fuck, they were done.

Wait…he’d last said thirteen.

Gah! They were
only
on thirteen!

Xander shifted so Kizzie was over one leg,
his other cinching down on hers to keep her in place. She was well
and truly up against his dick now, steel digging into her side and
a hard thigh forced into her low belly, angling her ass up a bit
more. She couldn’t imagine he would get any power behind the
strikes with—

Whap
!

Oh hell.

“Fourteen.”

“I may
not
touch Sir’s pussy without
His permission.”

They found the pace again, the strikes
coming harder, her ass going numb. Sweat glazed her skin and tears
pressed hot behind her eyes. Kizzie grit her teeth through the pain
until each shot sent a streak of fire through her body that
recoiled and came back a steady vibration in her pussy, and
damn
but she loved that.

Xander stroked a finger against her cunt,
gliding easily up an down the slick seam. “I love that you’re wet
for me.” A finger shoved inside and he tsked. “But this wasn’t
supposed to turn you on.”

Kizzie whimpered in her throat as a second
finger thrust in to join the first. She clenched hard around him,
so close to release.

“Want to come, Princess?”

‘Fuck yeah’ would
probably
get her
more spankings. Would more spankings be a bad thing?

“Yes, Sir.”

He worked his fingers through her swollen
flesh. Slowly…oh so slowly. She bit her lip and he moved a little
faster. “Beg.”

Yeah, right. Like she’d ever—

His thumb mashed her clit.

“
Please
, Sir. Please may I come,
Sir?”

He didn’t answer and she didn’t know if she
could hold out much longer. The wet squelch of his busy hand filled
the room and Kizzie’s feet started to tingle. She curled her toes
in her boots. Her moans came faster, but his hand slowed down. In
and out, in and out; steady, deliberate friction.

Kizzie squeezed her eyes shut, so focused on
the singular goal of release she forgot to be embarrassed, tried to
push back against him. Her voice was whiny, but she was too
preoccupied to hate the needy sound. “Please please
please
,
Sir, canIpleasecome? CanIpleasecome?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Kizzie moaned; Xander shoved forward and
stayed. But his thumb started working over her clit, sending licks
of electricity shooting up her spine and down to her feet.

“
Sir.”
So close.

Xander pulled out just before she flew
apart, swabbed off his sopping fingers on her ass, drew back and
struck her again. “Twenty-eight.”

Kizzie groaned. “I,” a gasp, “I…may not
touch…” Vibrations started against her belly that had nothing to do
with the spankings. With her brain already short-circuited, she
lost her train of thought.

“Focus,” he demanded.

She blinked through the fog in her head.
“…Touch Sir’s pussy without permission.”

“
Whose
permission, Kizzie?”

“
Yours
, Sir.”

And that was it.

She was his.

Through her panting she managed to repeat,
“I may not touch…your pussy…without your permission…Sir.”

She let go. However the final blows came she
could handle them. But the next strike was delayed. Xander
feathered moist fingertips over her searing flesh, the skin so
sensitive that his light touch was almost a more torturous
punishment.