Chapter Three #2
She stilled on the bed. I chose to take that as a sign that she would obey me, at least for the moment. I lifted my hand off her back and tugged her dress up over her hips. White lacy garters framed her gorgeous ass. The thin strap of her thong tapered up to a dimpled V on the back of her hips.
I left the stockings but took off the scrap of material covering her opening and sat on the edge of the bed, arranging her over my lap, with her silk stockinged feet hovering in the air.
I brought my hand down, a loud crack! rending the quiet of the room.
I admired the handprint that bloomed on her pale skin, then made a matching one on the other cheek.
Vittoria gripped the bedding in her fists when the first smack landed, and after the second, she clung as if her life depended on it.
I brought my hand down in a flurry of spanks, quickly darkening her skin beneath my hand.
She howled and thrashed, but no amount of kicking and crying would save her from a punishment.
She didn’t realize yet that she controlled the spanking. If she let go and accepted her punishment, this would end, but letting go was difficult, especially for someone as strong willed as Vittoria.
I lifted her off my lap and onto the bed. Grabbing a stack of pillows, I shoved them under her hips until her feet dangled in the air.
“Don’t move, Vittoria. This is your only warning.”
I drew the belt slowly from the loops of my pants and folded it in half.
The hissing of leather sliding over the wool of my pants as I pulled my belt free was the only sound in the room.
In contrast, once it was free and folded in half, I snapped it.
Vittoria twitched so violently, she slipped off the pillows.
“I told you not to move.” I swung the belt, listening to the sharp sigh before it cracked on her quivering flesh.
“You bastard! That hurts!”
I almost chuckled when I heard the fire in her voice. My wife was a long way from behaving herself.
I swung the belt and struck the tender flesh at the base of her bottom.
“Ahh!”
Every stroke I delivered brought a litany of expressive words from my new wife, none of which were appropriate.
“Argh! You son of a —”
I brought the next stroke down lower, then painted the backs of her thighs a pretty shade of red to match her naughty little bottom.
“Ouch! I hate you!”
And on it went, with each stroke of the belt. Her ass and thighs were blazing red and would hurt for some time. But during her kicking and crying, her legs parted and I could see her puffy lips, slick and swollen with her arousal.
I spread her thighs apart with the belt still hanging from my hand and let the leather kiss the sensitive flesh at the apex. Vittoria squealed and gazed at me over her shoulder with a look of pure shock.
“I’m sorreeee,” spilled from between her full lips. Her eyes pleaded as tears tracked her cheeks.
Not convinced, I struck again.
“Please, Sir, please, I’ll be good, I promise.”
I snapped the belt again, striking the soft flesh. A mix of a moan and cry broke from her.
“I don’t want your empty promises to be good, Vittoria. I want you to promise to obey me, and only me. Do you understand now?”
She sniffled quietly, but still withheld the words I wanted to hear. Time for a test. I took a few steps back from the bed.
“Come here, wife, on your knees.”
Vittoria scrambled off the bed and fell to her knees at my feet.
“Take my cock out of my pants.”
She reached out a shaking hand and unzipped my fly. She reached through the opening in my boxer briefs and gripped my cock. Her eyes flew to my face in surprise.
“You’re big.” She pulled my cock out, the angry head eye level with her.
“Open your mouth and clasp your hands behind your back,” I demanded.
She obeyed, and I quickly bound her hands with my belt.
I spread drops of pre-cum on her lips.
“Lick.”
Her pink tongue darted out and swiped the cum from her lips, like a kitten licking from a bowl of cream. Damn, this woman was smoking hot and all mine. Just looking at her on the floor with her mouth open was almost enough to have me shooting my load all over her face.
I gripped her hair in one hand and fed her my cock with the other.
“Hollow your cheeks,” I instructed, “and soften your throat.”
I fed my cock into her mouth until the tip hit her throat. When she tightened with the pressure, I gave her hair a sharp tug. “Soften your throat, Vittoria, or I will spank that little kitty between your legs.”
A guttural moan reverberated around my rod. She softened, and I shoved my cock down her throat. She convulsed around the thick ridges and then relaxed.
“Good girl,” I crooned. “That’s it. Take your husband’s cock in your throat. Feel me invading and taking what’s mine, Vittoria. You.”
Her moan reverberated around my cock, edging me toward my orgasm.
A few strokes later, my balls tightened, and I pumped my seed down her throat.
Gazing down at my new wife, I caught a glimpse of her beneath the surface for the first time and found it disturbed me.
She was a vision beneath the wreckage of our first battle, defiant even now despite the tears on her cheeks.
Beyond the surface I saw loneliness. Her pupils dilated as she looked up at me, confusion and reluctant heat replacing some of the earlier hostility.
The room fell quiet except for our uneven breathing.
Vittoria remained on her knees before me, shaken but unbroken, her chin lifting a fraction as if refusing to let me see how deeply I’d affected her.
Most women would have crumbled beneath a man like me.
My wife glared back like she was already planning her next escape.
“It’s time to clean up and get back to the party, Vittoria. There will be plenty of time later to satiate that appetite of yours and christen our sheets with your virginity.” I said, not knowing if she was a virgin or not.
Her cheeks went bright red with embarrassment.
“I’m proud of you, my principessa, for listening and obeying.”
Her pupils dilated again. She liked praise and being good when acknowledged. Maybe the naughty girl act was just that, and all she needed was the right man to tame her. Only time would tell.
“Come.” I held out my hand and helped her stand. “I will help clean you up, but then we must get back, so our guests don’t wonder if you’re still alive.”
She paled with my words, but I meant it as a joke.
I grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and gently wiped away her smeared make-up. Without all the dark eyeliner from this morning and the excess from her bridal look, she appeared young, much younger than her twenty-four years.
I tugged out the hairpins and allowed her hair to cascade down her back in graceful waves to her hips.
From the closet, I selected a simple black cocktail dress from the few items I’d had my mother put here earlier in the day from her favorite designer.
Fortunately, one that knew Vittoria as well so I knew whatever I chose would fit her body like a glove.
I beckoned her to stand and removed the wedding dress. She was a little unsteady on her feet so I did the honors of helping her into the little black cocktail dress.
“Okay, now we are ready.”
“Shoes?” she asked hopefully.
“No. You were a naughty girl and when you misbehave, you will be punished. One week, no shoes. Understood?” I had stopped to cup her chin gently between my thumb and finger, capturing her gaze and forcing her to look at me.
Her new husband and Master, and the one she would learn to depend on for all things.
There was no animosity in her expression, just acceptance.
“Yes, Sir,” she said huskily.
My cock hardened with her submission, and I hustled us out of the room before I changed my mind and ravished her right then.