Chapter Eight #2
“The office is soundproof.” Killian’s tone has grown flat, dissonant, completely careless of my emotional state.
“My secretary might’ve heard you banging on the door, but I assure you, he won’t come to help you out.
Now, you can keep conducting yourself like you belong in an insane asylum—I might even put you there to teach you a lesson—or you can shut up and accept what will happen with grace.
Which is it?” he gradually releases his grip on my throat, just enough to allow a single precious breath of air.
“Option two,” I wheeze.
“Good.” He releases me as abruptly as he grabbed me, leaving me jarred and disoriented. “Go to the desk. Plant your hands on it. Feet apart, back arched.”
That’s a horrifically vulnerable position.
“Please don’t make—”
“Desk,” he emphasizes. “Now.”
If I do it, I’m accepting his insanity. But, once again, I’m struck with the fact that I really don’t have a choice.
Resisting will only prolong the time I spend trapped here; doing what he says might let me leave somewhat unscathed.
I don’t know if he’s going to hurt me or fuck me—in either case, it’ll be terrible.
Endure, Lyra. Endure and plot behind his back.
Slow, sullen footsteps carry me over to the desk. Killian remains by the door, watching me fight against myself to follow his instructions. I plant my palms on the desk and lean over it, sucking in a breath at the humiliating position.
“Even those ridiculous clothes can’t hide your beauty,” Killian murmurs, and something stirs inside me. Pleasure at the praise, despair at his control over me—I’m not sure and I don’t want to find out.
I don’t turn around when Killian starts leisurely walking over to me. I don’t move until he plants a hand on my back; then, I flinch.
“Easy,” he says. “I’m just exploring.”
And explore he does. His hands wrap around my waist, giving it a tight squeeze.
They finger the hem of my jeans, smooth over my ass, brush the backs of my thighs.
I’m grateful that at least there’s some barrier between our skin, but then Killian does away with that, too.
He yanks down my jeans so harshly I hear a tear as they rip, and my eyes bulge at his strength.
They start to water when my panties go down next, leaving my bottom half completely exposed to him.
But even that isn’t enough, because my top goes next, with another rip.
I have no clothes to wear when I leave, but that’s the least of my worries as Killian unclips my bra, straightens me long enough to push it down my arms, and bends me over again.
He reaches around me to cup both of my breasts in his hands, pinching my nipples.
When I don’t react, he tightens the pressure until I jerk and whine.
Then, his lips touch my shoulder, as if in silent reward.
“You’re easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
“I have no use for your compliments.” My voice is as weak as the rest of me.
“It’s not a compliment; it’s a statement of fact.” His hands move across my ribcage to my back, and then travel downward until he clutches a palmful of my ass. He gives me a swift, harsh spank that jars me and makes me yelp; again he kisses me, rewarding me for my pain.
“Please stop that,” I whisper.
“No.” He doesn’t even ask what I’m requesting he stops; he’s letting me know, yet again, that my desires have no value here.
My head hangs lower. Killian fists my hair to lift it up. “Posture,” he admonishes. “Hold your head high. Be proud.”
“There is nothing to be proud of here.” He’s degrading me, assaulting me, while I stand in place and accept it.
“You’re wrong.” He kisses the shell of my ear.
“Stop it!” I yell, losing my temper.
His hand snaps around my neck again, grip tightening until it’s nearly bruising. I whimper, reaching up to clutch his hand with my own.
“Don’t raise your voice at me when it’s playtime,” he says, utterly calm. “Don’t curse me, either. You can fight, you can be as bratty as you want, but I wouldn’t recommend provoking me. In case you haven’t realized it, I’m not a lenient man. Don’t invite my wrath, Lyra.”
He squeezes harder for a moment, until I think my windpipe might collapse. Then, he lets go.
“You think you don’t like pain,” he repeats.
“I’m going to disabuse you of that notion.
You have a few punishments coming your way for your brattiness today, but I’ll commute your punishment.
In any other case, you’d get 10 for every single question you failed to answer, and another ten for your rudeness during the interview, which would be well over 100.
Instead, you’ll get twenty… for those offences. ”
I don’t know for sure what he means by 20, but I assume it’s spanks. I’ve handled a spanking from him before; it’s painful, uncomfortable, and humiliating, but I know I can get through it.
“Another 20 will be for your ridiculous attempts to leave,” he goes on, “And then a final 10 for your refusal to cooperate. That comes out to fifty.”
“Get it over with,” I say.
“Very well.” He steps back, and I hear a slight displacement of air, like a whizz. Then, I hear a crack, which startles me so much I jump. When I glance over my shoulder, I truly start to panic.
He’s holding his belt, folded in half. He’s not going to spank me, he’s going to whip me.
“Wait,” I say, straightening. “That’s—”
He curls his hand over the back of my neck and forces me over the desk, until my cheek is smushed against it and my breasts are flattened on the surface. I try to straighten, but he doesn’t budge.
“Stay in place or I’ll make you stay in place. If I have to restrain you, that’ll double your punishment, Lyra. We’ll play with bondage another time, but it’s not in the plans for today.”
“Please,” I whimper again. “If you want me to beg, I’ll beg—”
“You’ll beg once I’ve gotten started. Begging beforehand is whining, and I have no interest in listening to you whine right now. Stay still and take it.”
The first hit jars my body and soul. A line of fire forms on my ass, painful, burning, the impact so harsh I can already feel it forming a bruise. I bite down on my lip to withhold a scream, even as tears swim in my eyes. How can I take fifty of these?
I can’t.
The second is even worse, because he lays it over the exact same spot as the first, and swings with such strength I feel my tailbone creak under the pressure. Three more land in swift succession, all in the same spot as the first, and I break with a sob.
I’m humiliated, reduced to nothing but a plaything for Killian, and my mind is stuck in such turmoil, I can’t even think of taking revenge against him—not right now.
He pauses for a few seconds, just long enough for me to hope he changed his mind about giving me 50, but then he resumes with a vengeance.
For the first ten, I tremble and sob, but manage to keep my screams trapped in my chest. On the twentieth, I break and cry out, a long, pitiful sound that makes Killian pause.
I can almost feel his pleasure. By the thirtieth, I’m screaming, and on the fortieth, I no longer have enough of a voice to scream.
All I can do is cry and quietly repeat please, over and over again, hoping he grants me some mercy.
But Killian doesn’t know the meaning of mercy.
On the fiftieth, I’m completely sapped of strength. My ass burns like someone’s holding a blowtorch to it, aches, and pulses… and there’s something else. A low pulse between my legs—a pulse of something I don’t want to identify.
Just like I was the night of the gala, I feel thoroughly cowed. Completely drained. Desperate to go home and curl up on my bed, even though I know it’ll be painful—any touch against my ass will be painful.
When Killian squeezes my heated ass in his cool hands, I sob again at the renewed burst of pain.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Begging so sweetly for me.” Again, he kisses my shoulder, and again, I flinch.
“Now, you have a choice. You can either beg me to fuck you, and the punishment will be over. I’ll make sure you feel good. Or…” he squeezes again; I release a broken cry, “You can refuse, and that’ll be ten more hits… this time, on your pussy.”
He reaches a hand between my legs, running his fingers through my slit.
A low, quiet moan escapes him at what he finds there—arousal.
I’m fucking twisted to get off on pain of that caliber.
A spanking is one thing, and there might be something erotic to it, but what just happened was too extreme for even my messed up body to get off on it at all…
Only it wasn’t.
Maybe I should be in a psych ward, after all.
“I very much want to fuck you right now,” Killian murmurs, “but I won’t unless you beg. Otherwise, it’s ten on this deliciously wet pussy… and, Lyra, I’ll make sure it fucking hurts.” He pauses to let that sink in. “Choose.”
It’s a choice between the last scrap of my dignity and a world of pain… which isn’t really a choice at all. I inhale a few deep breaths and don’t even try to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks.
Then, I widen the stance of my legs. No use in giving Killian a reason to do it himself. He sucks in a sharp breath.
He’s affected by me. It’s a silly thing to notice, but I can’t deny it. He admitted himself that he wants me badly, and denying him is going to mean a lot of pain for me.
Yet the pleasure I’ll reap from knowing I said no to him will make up for it. Not immediately, not in the next few days… but when I look back on this moment, if I let him fuck me, I’ll hate myself.
“Belt,” I whisper.
Killian doesn’t respond, but I can feel his fury seething through the air, turning it thick, stifling, and as scary as the threat of his belt.
“Bad choice,” he says, and strikes.
If the belt on my ass was fire, this is lava. It doesn’t just burn, sting, and destroy my pussy, it spreads throughout my entire body, from my head all the way down to my toes. I release an ungodly screech, almost surprised I can summon the sound after all the screaming I’ve already done.
Then comes the second, third, fourth, and fifth strike. I lose control of my body. Reality grows fuzzy around the edges as every breath I take becomes painful—I’m nothing more than a ball of misery now.
By the tenth, I can scarcely breathe. My body is stuck firmly in panic mode, my mind is reeling, my emotions are entirely fucked. I try to hold onto the one thing I have left; I said no to him. I endured the pain to escape the surrender.
And, with how much everything hurts, I don’t think I’ll be able to do so again.