strength.
Throwing caution to the wind, I pulled back my free hand and aimed for his nose, just as he had instructed me. He caught my fist easily, then shifted his grip to my wrist. He grinned down at me evilly before wrenching my arm behind my back. I gave a sharp cry as he pulled it upward behind me, sending a slight pain shooting up my arm. I was forced to twist away from him, turning to relieve some of the pressure. But he didn’t relent, and the pressure drove me to my knees. His other hand came down on the back of my neck, shoving me down until he had my face pinned against the floor. My free hand scrabbled against the carpet, trying fruitlessly to push myself up. He held me patiently, implacable, until I went limp beneath him. He chuckled above me.
“Well isn’t this familiar?” He asked, amused. It was the same position he had held me in the last time he had taken me, and my sex swelled at the memory. I bit back a moan, trying to cling to my willpower. I was enjoying the fight, enjoying pushing the limits of his tolerance for my resistance.
“Very original.” I tried for a disparaging tone, but it came out as more of a gasp.
“You want to try something new then, do you?” His voice was low and dangerous, and I couldn’t help quivering beneath him. “I want you to remember that you asked for it.”
Suddenly, his hold on my neck and wrist eased, and his fingers were twined in my hair at the back of my head. He pulled relentlessly, and I quickly pressed my hands against the floor to push myself upright before the strands parted company with my scalp. When I was on my feet, I reached up to rake my nails against him arm, trying to make him release me. But he grabbed my wrists, pinning them at the small of my back. He held them in one hand while his other returned to my hair, tugging back sharply in reprimand. Staying stationed behind me, he shoved me, never releasing his grip on me. I was forced inexorably forward, helpless to prevent him from directing my body where he wanted it to go.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He gave another sharp tug on my hair, sending tingles down my spine. “Quiet,” he said gruffly. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to speak.”
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. My breathing was turning fast and shallow as he guided me out of the living room and up the stairs. I fought not to stumble up them as my legs felt weak beneath me, my entire body turning to jelly as submission crept into the edges of my mind. Remembering our game, I tried to shove it back, but I knew that I would only be able to hold it at bay for so long.
When we reached the center of my bedroom, he turned me so that I was facing the door. His lips were at my ear, his hot breath rippling across my neck as he spoke. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to strip for me, Claudia,” he told me. “You are not to move from this spot, and you are not to look behind you under any circumstances.”
“And if I do?” I asked.
There was a sharp, bruising pain as he pinched my ass hard, and I let out a surprised yelp. “There will be consequences,” he said matter-of-factly. “And if you’re tempted to test me, know that you are in enough trouble as it is. I’m warning you not to goad me. You might not like the results. Do you understand?” He asked softly.
“Y-yes,” I forced out, and he laughed at my stuttering. He released his hold on me, and he delved his hand under the back of my shirt. His index finger slowly traced the line of my spine from my nape to my tailbone. He stroked the little patch of skin just above my ass, and I let out a strangled cry as he stimulated the little bundle of nerves there that he had introduced me to when he had first spanked me.
But he drew away all too soon, and I whined at the loss.
“Now strip, Claudia,” he ordered. Cool air closed behind me as he moved away.
With trembling fingers, I gripped the hem of my sweater, drawing it up
Throwing caution to the wind, I pulled back my free hand and aimed for his nose, just as he had instructed me. He caught my fist easily, then shifted his grip to my wrist. He grinned down at me evilly before wrenching my arm behind my back. I gave a sharp cry as he pulled it upward behind me, sending a slight pain shooting up my arm. I was forced to twist away from him, turning to relieve some of the pressure. But he didn’t relent, and the pressure drove me to my knees. His other hand came down on the back of my neck, shoving me down until he had my face pinned against the floor. My free hand scrabbled against the carpet, trying fruitlessly to push myself up. He held me patiently, implacable, until I went limp beneath him. He chuckled above me.
“Well isn’t this familiar?” He asked, amused. It was the same position he had held me in the last time he had taken me, and my sex swelled at the memory. I bit back a moan, trying to cling to my willpower. I was enjoying the fight, enjoying pushing the limits of his tolerance for my resistance.
“Very original.” I tried for a disparaging tone, but it came out as more of a gasp.
“You want to try something new then, do you?” His voice was low and dangerous, and I couldn’t help quivering beneath him. “I want you to remember that you asked for it.”
Suddenly, his hold on my neck and wrist eased, and his fingers were twined in my hair at the back of my head. He pulled relentlessly, and I quickly pressed my hands against the floor to push myself upright before the strands parted company with my scalp. When I was on my feet, I reached up to rake my nails against him arm, trying to make him release me. But he grabbed my wrists, pinning them at the small of my back. He held them in one hand while his other returned to my hair, tugging back sharply in reprimand. Staying stationed behind me, he shoved me, never releasing his grip on me. I was forced inexorably forward, helpless to prevent him from directing my body where he wanted it to go.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He gave another sharp tug on my hair, sending tingles down my spine. “Quiet,” he said gruffly. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to speak.”
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. My breathing was turning fast and shallow as he guided me out of the living room and up the stairs. I fought not to stumble up them as my legs felt weak beneath me, my entire body turning to jelly as submission crept into the edges of my mind. Remembering our game, I tried to shove it back, but I knew that I would only be able to hold it at bay for so long.
When we reached the center of my bedroom, he turned me so that I was facing the door. His lips were at my ear, his hot breath rippling across my neck as he spoke. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to strip for me, Claudia,” he told me. “You are not to move from this spot, and you are not to look behind you under any circumstances.”
“And if I do?” I asked.
There was a sharp, bruising pain as he pinched my ass hard, and I let out a surprised yelp. “There will be consequences,” he said matter-of-factly. “And if you’re tempted to test me, know that you are in enough trouble as it is. I’m warning you not to goad me. You might not like the results. Do you understand?” He asked softly.
“Y-yes,” I forced out, and he laughed at my stuttering. He released his hold on me, and he delved his hand under the back of my shirt. His index finger slowly traced the line of my spine from my nape to my tailbone. He stroked the little patch of skin just above my ass, and I let out a strangled cry as he stimulated the little bundle of nerves there that he had introduced me to when he had first spanked me.
But he drew away all too soon, and I whined at the loss.
“Now strip, Claudia,” he ordered. Cool air closed behind me as he moved away.
With trembling fingers, I gripped the hem of my sweater, drawing it up
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