15. Dameon
Chapter fifteen
Dameon
“H ow was the swim?” I ask as she steps into my field of vision above me. I sit up, propping myself on my elbow with my knee bent, watching rivulets of water cascade down her cleavage, tempting me to lick off every salty drop. I’m still as hard as granite from her breathtaking performance earlier.
“Beautiful,” she replies, wringing out her hair. I glance down the beach and then back up to her.
“Wait, where did you swim?”
Her brows pinch together. “Just here.” She gestures to the ocean directly ahead of us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask incredulously, fully sitting up. “You went swimming outside the red and yellow flags?”
“Yeah, what’s the big deal?”
“Are you serious?” I press.
“What’s the problem? You swam there as well,” she points out.
“No, I didn’t. I walked down to the other side of the beach where the flags are.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a child, I wasn’t going to drown.”
“Says every dumb fuck who thinks they can swim at Bondi Beach,” I retort. “Hailee, they’ve made a whole TV show about saving stupid tourists. The surf is rough; it’s unlike any other beach in the world with its unexpected currents and rips. The number of rescues needed on a daily basis is crazy.” My eyebrows hit my hairline.
“Okay, okay. No swimming outside the flags. Got it.” She raises her palms in a calming gesture.
“Why on earth didn’t you just walk down to the flags?” I can’t let this slide. She could’ve drowned.
I see her hesitate for a moment before sighing. “It was all the way on the other side of the beach.” She points to the flags as if I haven’t already made the same trek today. She grumbles, and it’s too cute for words. If this weren’t so serious, I’d laugh.
“Let me get this straight. You put your life in danger because you were too lazy to walk, like, eight hundred meters?” I tease.
She mumbles something under her breath that I can’t quite catch.
“What was that?” I ask.
“I said, yes, sir.”
“You’re just racking up the punishments, aren’t you? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about being burned to a crisp, either. Or skipping meals,” I say, amused. I’m thrilled at the prospect of doling out her first real punishment tonight. She mock pouts, but I know she’s craving it as much as I am.
***
She hovers on the edge between pleasure and pain, a place I savor the most during punishment. Exploring ways to bring her pleasure while denying her the ultimate release she craves is my favorite game. Her cries, filled with wanton desperation, ignite a primal hunger within me. It makes me fucking feral. Her moans, both filthy and beautiful, are only for my ears. No one else will ever hear those sweet sounds again; they belong only to me. The sight before me will be permanently burned into my brain. She kneels in the center of the bed, her arms bound to the headboard, and her ankles secured to a spreader bar, offering me unrestricted access to her pussy and plugged ass.
“Please…” Her plea comes out garbled through the ring gag. I lean in, brushing the hair from her face, revealing eyes that shine bright with submission. Her face glistens with drool and sweat.
“You’re doing so well, goddess,” I praise.
As my fingers trail over the delicate lips of her swollen cunt, she moans and squirms, desperate for my touch. I chuckle darkly, admiring the deep red hue of her ass, having warmed her up with my palm. I’ve kept her on the edge for the past forty minutes, and she’s soaked, swollen, and I bet, sore as hell.
“You’ll receive three lashes from my belt, one for each infraction,” I declare, looping my belt and letting it crack against her left cheek with a satisfying snap. The blow is deliberate, precise—a reminder of her transgressions. Only using a quarter of my strength, it was as light as I could make it without making it seem I was going easy on her.
“You will care for your wellbeing and never skip meals,” I command, as a faint “Yes, sir” escapes her lips. The belt strikes her right cheek, this time with more force, eliciting a gasp of pleasurable pain.
“You will care for your body, for my sake if not your own. I own this ass, and you will treat it with respect,” I assert, watching as she sniffs and nods.
The final lash across her ass is delivered with a force meant to leave a lasting impression. I want her to remember this, forever. “You will never put your life in danger again,” I stress. She sobs into the pillow, a chorus of apologies tumbling from her lips in a jumbled mess.
“Shh, it’s all over now,” I soothe, rubbing her back gently. The three raised stripes on her ass contrast with the rosy blush from the earlier spanking and only serve to enhance her beauty. That’s my girl, so fucking beautiful.
I start to release her from the restraints: First, the spreader bar between her legs, then her wrists from the headboard and the gag from behind her teeth. I wrap her in a warm blanket, cradling her in my arms. As she sobs, I hold her close, the warmth of her petite body seeping into mine. I rest against the headboard as she curls into my lap, nestled against my chest. It’s a natural fit, like second nature, like I’ve been doing this for years. Despite my own arousal, I remain still, focused solely on comforting her. Tonight is about my goddess, and if she can’t find release, neither will I. I continue to soothe and praise her until her hiccups fade away, and she grows quiet.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Good. Really good, actually. Thank you,” she mumbles, a faint frown marring her beautiful face.
I chuckle. “If you need a punishment, kitten, just ask. There’s no shame in asking for what your body needs. I’d rather you do that than be a brat and break the rules.”
She smiles shyly, hiding it beneath the blanket.
“Trust me, you don’t have to ask me twice to punish your sexy ass,” I tease, earning another hidden smile from her.
“Here.” I pass her a bottle of water. “Drink,” I urge, and she obediently finishes it. Once she’s done, I take the empty bottle from her.
“Can I ask you something?” Her curious gaze is fixed on me.
“Sure, but after a bath and after I put lotion on your ass. I don’t want you to bruise.” I lift her up from the bed and carry her into our bathroom. Okay, maybe that was a little white lie—bathing her and massaging her sore muscles might just be my favorite part of a punishment, or at least a very close second.
After we finish up in the bath, I apply the lotion to her cheeks, taking care not to press too hard. The three welts look good; the skin is intact without any signs of bruising. She’ll heal nicely in the next couple of days. I lay down next to her, propped up on my elbow so I can see her expression while she waits for the lotion to dry. “What is it? I know you’re dying to ask,” I say, chuckling at her fidgeting fingers.
She hesitates for a moment, then blurts, “Why do you need relationships to be transactional?”
What?!
I’m floored. This is what she wants to know? What she wants to discuss at this very moment?
Fuck me.
“Why do you want to know?” I draw out slowly.
“Because I want to understand. I want to get to know you.”
Talk about going for the jugular. I was expecting an easy question, not asking me to unload past trauma. I’m tempted to blow her off and change the subject, but when she looks at me like that, raw and sincere, I can’t deny her anything.
“Okay.” I sigh, reluctant to fall down the rabbit hole and reopen past wounds. I scrub my hand down my face, feeling the memories bearing down on me.
“I met Mia when I was in college. She was intelligent, funny and had this wild streak to her. Nothing and no one could tame her, dampen her fire. We fell hard for each other.” I swallow the knot in my throat, and Hailee nods in encouragement.
“We started experimenting together, discovering what we liked sexually and what we didn’t. We realized our kinks were a perfect fit: I liked to dominate and be in complete control, whereas she liked to relinquish it in the bedroom. Mia didn’t come from a wealthy family, but that didn’t bother me. It wasn’t even a consideration until I wanted to propose.
“When I mentioned my plans I got a lot of push back from my family, especially from my dad. He didn’t want me to marry her, saying she didn’t come from ‘good stock’ and wasn’t good enough for me. James, my best mate, didn’t like her either, though he wouldn’t say why. I figured he kept quiet because he knew how crazy I was about her. And unlike every other teenager, I actually listened to my dad and decided to hold off on the proposal.” I hesitate, considering how much to share. She’s silent, waiting for me to continue. I decide to skip over a few details.
“I’m glad I did listen in the end because she became obsessed with getting married and becoming my wife. Our relationship became strained, and eventually I ended it. She didn’t take it well at all—she got really bitter and vindictive. She went to the press, telling them I abused her, that I was into kinky shit, and I coerced her into it. Given who my dad is, it was newsworthy, and our competitors had a field day with the story. Everything we did was one hundred percent consensual. But I had no proof; it was my word against hers.”
“God, that pisses me off. Women like her make it hard for other women who have actually been assaulted to be heard and believed,” Hailee remarks with frustration. I lightly run my fingers up her spine, enjoying the sensation of her soft skin beneath my touch.
“Yeah, well, now every sexual encounter I have is documented. Everyone signs on the dotted line to express their consent, and everyone signs an NDA. I can’t go through something like that again. It nearly destroyed me.” The weight of the past is still heavy on my shoulders.
“Thank you for sharing with me,” she says softly.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Plus, it’s only fair if you share your ass with me that I return the favor.” I wink at her.
She covers her mouth to stifle a yawn. “Time for sleep,” I order, pulling the covers over us as I spoon her from behind. She wiggles her ass into me, which causes her to hiss in pain. I bite the inside of my cheek to smother a laugh. She forgot her ass has just been punished and is still plugged.
“Can you please remove the plug?” She looks back at me over her shoulder with a sweet and innocent expression.
“I’ll remove it in the morning. I shouldn’t need to remind you, but just in case, no touching my pretty pink pussy until I say otherwise.” She groans in frustration.
I don’t plan on making her wait long for relief, though. I know she’s dying for it. She just doesn’t know that yet. With a smirk, my eyes drift shut as we settle in for the night.