Chapter 14 #3
Soon, she’s bucking hard, her pussy milking my finger, and I know she’s teetering on the edge. Both edges. And I intend to keep her right there for the time being.
So I pull my finger out suddenly in a wet, popping sound.
She groans loudly, her body rigid with the sudden denial.
My hand goes back to hitting her bottom hard, each smack taking the edge off my own arousal.
If I listened only to my cock, I’d plunge it into her ass right now and fuck her senseless as she dangles off the balcony.
But something holds me back. Something I can’t understand.
I’ve never been the type to hold back before.
By the time I’ve finished this latest round of spanking, bruises are forming on her ass cheeks and her body has grown still. She’s finally submitting to me.
I press my face against her bottom, finding her folds with my mouth. I bite down on another laugh when I realize she’s as wet as ever. Pain really does turn her on.
Whatever defiance she’d previously shown seems to melt for good as she starts to moan loudly.
I lave at her folds, darting my tongue inside her and touching the part of her that makes her cry out in need.
When she starts to spasm, I withdraw once more, taking my hands off her for just a second, smirking as she suddenly screams in terror.
I keep her in this state of panic much longer than I’d initially meant to. But there’s something addictive about eating her out while feeling her tremble in my grasp, about knowing that her fear, her pleasure, her life, all depend on me. I own her, and it’s time she knew it.
At last, though, I take pity on her, and with a few last licks, I’ve brought her over the edge. Her entire body spasms, and I continue to suck on her clit, deepening and prolonging her orgasm. When she grows limp, I pull her toward me.
The minute she’s on solid ground, she collapses in my arms, shaking violently.
I know I may feel remorse later on, but the glorious sight of her ass propped up helplessly on the balcony railing was worth it. I lick at her tears hungrily as she melts into me, seeking comfort in the arms of the very man who was responsible for her state of prolonged terror.
Well, she had it coming, giving me near heart attacks whenever I caught her leaning over the railing. Hopefully, this will have cured her of the habit.
Still, I can’t help but soothe her. I’m not a monster, after all. Not entirely.
“Don’t worry, pet. I would never let you fall,” I murmur, running my hand through her hair.
“Yes, sir,” she sobs, her hands squeezing my arm.
I lift up her face and study her. There’s something about her that I can’t quite understand, and it frustrates me. Darkness mingling with innocence. Such innocence that somehow, it would feel like I was defiling her if I relieved my own frustration inside her.
Once more, I battle the urge to sink my cock in her. Though this time, what I’d like is to push her to the ground, stuff it in her small, heart-shaped mouth, and make her suck me off. And yet, it feels like a travesty. Far more than dangling her off a balcony for twenty minutes.
Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I press her to me, resigning myself to the frustration that I’ve been experiencing far too often, lately.
She sighs in contentment as I begin to stroke her back and bottom in the familiar soothing gesture. My own frustration dies down, replaced with curiosity.
And this time, I don’t try to quell it. I find myself wanting to own not just her body, but her mind, too. I need to understand her.
“Tell me why you did it,” I order. “Why did you go out on the balcony when I told you not to?”
“I wanted you to come see me,” she whispers.
I chuckle. There’s no artifice about her. She’s completely withdrawn, and yet she doesn’t hide a thing. I’ve never met anyone like her.
She draws back for a moment at the sound of my laughter, and I can tell she’s about to close herself off from me. But I won’t allow it. I tug on her hair, angling her face backward, drinking in her violet eyes.
Then I trap her lower lip between my teeth so hard she gasps. “Why did you lean so far over the railing in the first place? I can tell you’re terrified of heights.”
I let go of her lip and she takes it between her own teeth, chewing on it quietly.
“Talk,” I press, and then, when she remains quiet, I add with a smirk, “tell me, or I’ll dangle you over the railing again.”
The threat doesn’t have much effect on her.
I can’t tell if she’s defiant or if she has no answer for me.
I’ve noticed she doesn’t speak unless she has something to say.
People usually talk because it’s expected of them, or to hear the sound of their own voice.
But she’s not most people. That much is clear.
She looks up at me mutely, her violet eyes cloudy, and there’s no reading them.
I grip her ass possessively. Her silence is provoking. She may not have anything to say, but when I order her to speak, I expect her to.
She shudders from my violent handling. That spanking must have really hurt her, and I find myself growing hard again at the thought. So I quickly let her bottom go and encircle her waist instead with one arm, while the other travels to her beautiful hair. I need to keep myself under control.
As I begin to stroke her hair again, she relaxes into me. As if the balcony episode never happened. As if I’m perfectly safe, when we both know I’m not.
“Speak, or I’ll punish you,” I hiss into her hair, but those words don’t have the weight they did before. Now, she only brings her head back to study me, her expression intrigued.
She’s studying me. When the hell did she start to study me?
“Speak, or I’ll stay away for two weeks this time.”
Well, that did it. The clouds over her violet eyes lift, and I can tell the defiance has melted. What an odd little thing she is. She should be terrified of me, and yet, the only thing she seems scared of is my absence.
“Are you trying to escape?” I prompt, taking advantage of her submission to resume the interrogation. “Is that why you’ve been leaning over?”
“No.”
She answers so quickly I know it’s true.
I laugh, and her face reddens with the quick surge of anger I’m beginning to get used to. But I don’t let it phase me.
“You know, most girls in captivity would welcome the chance to escape. Why don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have anywhere to go,” she says bluntly, her anger evaporating as my fingers resume their stroking.
She nestles into the little nook that seems made for her, her body sagging in my arms. I breathe in her curls as my other hand travels down her back. I lift her dress, finding her bare, bruised ass, rubbing the sting away before coming to rest on the swell of her cheeks.
Meanwhile, my fingers pause in her hair, and she nudges them with her head, like a little kitten who’s not ready for the petting to stop. Distractedly, I go back to stroking her, lost in thought. I wonder again what kind of life my girl has had.
But instead of asking, I insist, “Then why did you lean out?”
Another pause follows my words, but there’s no mistaking this once for defiance. She’s thinking.
“I liked the feeling it gave me,” she answers at last, seriously.
“Fear?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s more that I like… not feeling in control.”
A little smirk plays at the edge of my lips as I kiss her freckled nose. “You don’t have to worry about that, my little captive. I’ll make sure never to give you the slightest speck of control again.”