Chapter 11 #3
“Good girl. Let’s give you a reward for taking your punishment so well.
” He smiled gently in her face, before releasing her to swing in her own inertia.
“Remember, Janice.” He said as he walked around her and untied the bridle, taking it from her mouth and dropping it to the floor. “We behave in public spaces.”
Janice kept her trap shut, doing her damnedest to be patient as she waited for him to take her out of the freakish contraption he’d trapped her in.
Ansell walked back around her and unzipped his pants. “When we’re good, we get rewards. Do you know what bad girl’s get?”
Janice stared at him like the man had lost his mind, because to her, that was the only conceivable way something like this could work out.
“Janice.” He grabbed a handful of thigh. “I asked you a question.” His grip on her thigh tightened a bit. “What do bad girl’s get?”
Janice swallowed thickly, a sense of trepidation running through her. “Punished.” The word came out softly, the quality thick and a bit hoarse from her tears.
His smile was something of rapturous relief. “Good girl.” Then she felt the tip of him press to her opening.
Her body thrilled with traitorous exaltation and she trembled in welcome even as she shook her head. She didn’t want this. Especially not after the bullshit the man had just put her through. She wanted him to let her down so that she could punch him in that pretty, smug face of his. “No, wait.”
He held her still as he pushed into her and she cried out, feeling her body spread out to swallow him. A tremulous shudder surged through her and she sighed a moan, filling the room with the sound.
This was it. What she’d spent so long waiting for.
Wanting for. What her body had been crying out for the entire week.
This connection. Her head dropped back on another moan as he began to move her, swinging her back and forth in time with at first a series of slow curious thrusts. Then he picked up speed.
The sound of her voice, the creaking of the strange swing, and the dull clap of her behind to his pelvis were the only sounds in the room.
Her behind stung every time their bodies came together and in this position, it felt like the man was going so deep he was becoming another part of her.
She cried out, struggling against her restraints as their passion built, his body taking hers in a way she felt helpless and lost against. .
. but she also felt safe, secure. As though he knew what he was doing.
He wouldn’t let her fall. He wouldn’t let her lose herself. . .
Her body tightened around his, muscles contracting as he pushed her relentlessly towards that cliff face she’d been to so many times before.
. . but this time was different. As rash and violent as his taking her, his dragging her up that mountain was, this time she wasn’t the one in control.
She was the one out of control. She was completely at his mercy, but she was strangely fine with that.
More than that, she was elated at the fact that for once she could really let loose.
For once, she could allow herself to be fully out of control.
Her moaning cries gained pitch as her body started to spiral.
She was going to lose it. Any and everything she’d been holding tightly onto since the day she’d left home.
. . Since the day she’d run away leaving behind everything she’d ever known in that big white dress.
. . Everything she’d fought and struggled to build with her brother. . . Everything. . . To this man.
She broke out in a cold sweat. Her body arched against him as she pulled at her restraints, jerking as she cried out with the tidal wave of her release as it washed through her. . . From her. . .
Blinking rapidly, chest heaving, Janice was more than surprised to find herself in the booth again, sitting next to Warren and across from Sascha. A whole table between them and the waiter setting food in front of them.
Warren was shaking her lightly, a hand on her arm and she hissed lightly. Her bum hurt like she’d taken a nasty fall and her wrists and ankles felt chafed and burned. She looked around in confusion, startled by the sudden reversion of scenery.
Gone were her binds and the dark red room. Gone was the strange swing setup that hung her from the ceiling. But her eyes still felt puffy from her tears and her throat still felt raw.
What had just happened?
“Janice, are you okay?” Sascha beat Warren to asking, reaching across the table and taking the hand Janice had forgotten she’d placed there.
When the woman’s fingers brushed her wrist, Janice jerked away sharply with a hiss.
Bringing up her hand she pulled down the cuff of her shirt to reveal dark, purpling bruises.
She could only stare with horror as Sascha gasped and Warren inhaled sharply at her side.
They all turned their attention to Ansell who leaned back in his seat taking deep chest expanding breaths.
He looked as though he’d broken a bit of a sweat and he held her in a severe gaze that had a duplicitous excitement moistening her already wet underwear.
He only said two words. Or perhaps mouthed them is a better description. “Good girls.” That was it. But she was horrified that it seemed to melt her from the inside.
Swallowing hard, Janice turned her attention to the food in front of her and started eating while Sascha and Warren started giving the man the third degree. Janice didn’t feel much like talking. . . Besides, she was pretty sure it would have come out sounding like a croak if she had.