Chapter 5 #3
“Interesting,” Stefano murmured, and I could hear the dark curiosity in his voice.
Immediately after the strike, his palm flattened, rubbing slow circles over the area he’d just punished.
The contrast between the lingering sting and the soothing pressure created a sensation I’d never felt before—confusing, overwhelming, and decidedly not unpleasant.
“Such pretty sounds,” Marco said, his fingers cupping my chin gently. “And look at those lovely pink cheeks. Not just from the spanking, I think. You’re blushing, little wildcat.”
“Stop that,” I gasped, horrified by the breathless quality creeping into my voice. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it. This is—this isn’t—”
I tried to turn my head away, but Marco’s hands framed my face, holding me steady as his thumbs brushed across my cheekbones. “Shh,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well. Taking your punishment like such a good boy.”
Crack!
This time his hand landed with deliberate precision on my right cheek, and the pain bloomed into something else entirely—a heat that raced through my body and settled low in my belly.
My hips jerked involuntarily, pressing me down against his thigh, and I felt something that made my blood run cold with mortification.
I was getting hard.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whispered, more to myself than to them. This was pain, humiliation, assault—it shouldn’t be causing this reaction. It shouldn’t be making heat pool between my legs or making my body seek friction against his muscled thigh.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Stefano replied, his voice rough with something I didn’t want to identify. “Your body knows what it needs, even when your mind fights it.”
“Beautiful,” Marco murmured, his thumbs still stroking my flushed cheeks. “The way you respond, even when you don’t want to. Your body can’t lie, can it?”
Crack!
His palm connected with my left cheek, the sound sharp in the night air.
This time the pain transformed almost immediately into something that made me bite back a sound I’d never made before—something between a gasp and a moan that horrified me with its neediness.
My cock was definitely hardening now, trapped against his thigh, creating a friction that my body seemed determined to seek out despite my mental protests.
The sound I made seemed to electrify Marco. His pupils dilated as he leaned closer, one thumb tracing my lower lip. “There it is,” he breathed. “Let us hear you, little wildcat. Don’t hide from what you’re feeling.”
“I’m not enjoying anything!” I protested, but even as the words left my mouth, another wave of that confusing heat rolled through me.
Each strike was awakening something in my body that I’d never experienced, something primal and overwhelming that made my omega biology sing with recognition even as my rational mind recoiled.
“No?” Marco’s thumb pressed gently against my lip. “Then why are you making such sweet sounds? Why is your mouth falling open like this?”
I realized with horror that my lips had parted, my breathing coming in short gasps that made me look like I was begging for… something.
Smack!
The eighth blow fell without warning, harder than the ones before, and this time there was no mistaking my body’s response. Pure pleasure shot through me, so intense that a proper moan escaped before I could stop it. My cock was fully hard now, throbbing painfully against Stefano’s leg.
“Perfect,” Marco whispered, and before I could protest, his thumb slipped between my parted lips. “Such a sweet mouth, even when it’s being so defiant.”
The intrusion should have disgusted me, should have made me bite down. Instead, I found myself instinctively sucking on his thumb, my tongue curling around it in a way that made Marco’s eyes darken with hunger.
“That’s it,” he praised softly. “Such a good boy. You’re learning what you need, aren’t you?”
Stefano immediately followed the strike with his palm flat against my burning skin, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me trembling with the effort not to move my hips. The combination of his touch and Marco’s thumb in my mouth was overwhelming my senses completely.
“Shut up,” I tried to say around Marco’s thumb, but it came out muffled and pathetic. “This isn’t—I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”
Crack! Crack!
The final three blows landed in rapid succession, one on each cheek, with enough force to drive the breath from my lungs. But instead of pain, what shot through me was pure, undiluted pleasure. The bastard had found some unholy nexus of pain and pleasure that bypassed all my mental defenses.
The dual impacts, combined with Marco’s thumb stroking my tongue, nearly sent me over the edge. My cock pulsed desperately against Stefano’s leg, and for one horrifying moment, I thought I might actually come just from being spanked—a humiliation I’d never recover from.
Stefano’s hand settled on my burning ass, possessive and heavy. His fingers kneaded the flesh he’d just punished, while Marco slowly withdrew his thumb from my mouth, leaving me gasping and disoriented.
“Such a responsive little omega,” Stefano murmured. “Your body knows exactly what it needs, doesn’t it?”
My face burned hotter than my ass. “Shut up,” I whispered, horrified by the neediness in my own voice. “Just finish this sadistic little game so I can—”
“So you can what, little wildcat?” Marco asked softly, his hands still cupping my face. “Tell us what you need.”
“Get your hands off me,” I managed, though the words lacked any real conviction. “This is—this isn’t normal. Something’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t be reacting like this.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Marco assured me, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my forehead. “You’re just discovering who you really are beneath all that fire.”
To my surprise, Stefano helped me to my feet with unexpected gentleness, steadying me when my legs threatened to buckle beneath me. Marco rose, staying close as I swayed slightly.
I immediately tried to turn away, hands dropping to cover the obvious evidence of my arousal tenting the front of the sweatpants. The movement brought me face-to-face with Matteo, whose usually impassive expression had been replaced by something dark and hungry that made my pulse quicken.
“Dinner’s ready,” Marco announced from beside me, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. “Perfect timing.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lied, desperate for any excuse to be alone, to process the bewildering reactions my body was having.
My ass throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of what had just happened—and worse, how I’d responded to it.
“The combination of kidnapping and public spanking has killed my appetite. Weird how that works.”
“That wasn’t a request,” Stefano replied, his hand coming to rest at the small of my back with casual possession. “Rule two, remember? You eat what we provide, when we provide it.”
I allowed myself to be guided to one of the camping chairs, wincing as my tender backside made contact with the seat. The pain triggered another pulse of unwanted pleasure, making me shift uncomfortably. Marco moved to retrieve the food from the cooking area.
“Here,” he said when he returned, handing a plate not to me but to Stefano. “He’s probably too shaky to feed himself right now. Look at his hands.”
“I can feed myself,” I insisted, reaching for the plate, only to have Stefano hold it just out of reach. “I’m not an invalid or a toddler or whatever other helpless creature you’re apparently mistaking me for.”
“Can you?” he asked, his gaze dropping pointedly to my trembling hands. “Because I’m not convinced. You’re practically vibrating, and not just from righteous indignation.”
I followed his gaze and felt a fresh wave of humiliation as I realized he was right. My hands were shaking, fine tremors running through my fingers. My coordination was shot, compromised by the confusing mix of pain, arousal, and adrenaline coursing through my system.
My stomach made the decision for me, growling with embarrassing volume.
“Fine,” I muttered, opening my mouth reluctantly. “But I’d like the record to show that I’m being coerced into this humiliation under threat of starvation.”
The moment the food touched my tongue, I regretted my resistance. It was delicious—the fish perfectly seasoned, the texture flaky and moist.
“Good boy,” Stefano murmured.
The praise sent another unwelcome shiver down my spine, making my still-hard cock twitch against the fabric of the sweatpants. I shifted uncomfortably, my tender ass reminding me of the spanking with every movement against the chair.
Marco had settled nearby with his own plate, watching me with obvious satisfaction. Matteo sat silently across the fire, his watchful gaze never leaving me as he ate.
Another bite appeared before my lips, and despite my desire to refuse out of spite, hunger won out.
As I chewed, I became uncomfortably aware of how something new was happening to my body—a warmth that had nothing to do with the food or the fire, a prickling awareness that made my skin feel too tight.
It started in my core and radiated outward, a flush that crept up my neck and across my cheeks.
My heartbeat accelerated slightly, and I became increasingly conscious of the alphas’ scents—pine and earth from Stefano, cinnamon and amber from Marco, cedar and something darker from Matteo.
Scents that had been noticeable before were suddenly overwhelming, wrapping around me like physical presences.
“Stop staring at me like that,” I demanded, squirming uncomfortably as the confusing cocktail of sensations intensified. My body temperature was rising, making the evening air feel cool against my flushed skin.
“Like what?” Stefano asked innocently, though his expression was anything but.
“Like I’m dinner instead of the one eating it.”
His smile widened, showing teeth. “Who says you can’t be both?”
A strange shiver ran down my spine at his words. The arousal that had begun with the spanking was transforming, deepening, spreading through my body in a way that felt alarmingly familiar.
No. Not now. Not here.