MICHAEL Charlotteâs eyes widen, her face turning even whiter. Without a word, she goes through to the bedroom, undresses and then, trembling, bends over the end of the bed.
âAss up.â
She shifts position, presenting her pale derriere. Normally, in this position her pussy would be glistening with her arousal, but not this time.
Sheâs shakingâ¦.
âI didnât want you thinking this is about James and his sex games. Thatâs why I refused to let him do this. Iâm the one that is punishing you, and this is the real thing. I hate doing this stuff. You know that.
But Iâm doing it now because punishment is something you understand.â
I strip off my jeans, pulling out the belt as I do so, feeling sick. âI need some relief, so Iâm going to fuck you; then Iâm going to punish you, and youâre going to accept it. Yes?â
Her face side on to the sheets, she nods, her eyes streaming.
âMichael, you need toâ¦â
âI didnât ask you to speak. Just to do as youâre told for a fucking changeâ¦. Open your legs further.â
She obeys, and I test her pussy. Sheâs dry, so I find a pot of lube, work her over inside, and myself.
âThis is for me, not you, do you understand?â
She nods, silently, again.
Sheâs crying and right now, I donât care. I just want to fuck her. And to make her feel the way I did the last few days, used and unwanted.
I plunge into her and she gasps, her fingers gripping into the bed covers.
Am I hurting her?
But I donât ask, instead, I bang her hard, trying to fuck away the tension inside me. She makes no attempt to either stop me or take the ride with me, just lying there while I pump her.
After only a minute or two, my balls tighten with climax and I ram home as I shoot my load into her, spurting cum and stress into her in equal measure.
As I finish, she tries to rise, but I push her down. âIâve not finished. I told you. You get punished next.â
âBut first I need toâ¦â
I force her back, face down onto the bed, then casting around for something suitable, I spot Jamesâ tie.
âPut this between your teeth.â
White-faced, eyes swollen, she opens her mouth, silently accepting the tie, clamping it between her teeth.
âAre you ready?â
Head pressed down, she nods.
I donât want to draw this out, so I strike at her with the belt, a single blow. She judders, her eyes welling, but I donât believe it is the pain that makes her cry. A second stroke, and her eyes squeeze shut. A third and she whimpers, her breathing turning heavy.
Thatâs enough. Iâve made my point.
I pull the tie from her mouth. She works her lips, trying to speak.
I lean close over her. âWhat was that? I couldnât hear it.â
Through tears, she speaks. âIâm sorry. Iâm sorry.â
âStay there.â I fetch a tube of analgesic from the bathroom, apply it to the welts on her rear.
âWhatâs that?â she asks, from her prone position.
âPainkiller.â
âWhatâs the point of doing something like that, and then giving me pain-killers?â Her voice is a whisper.
âI wanted to make a point in a way that you get it. I donât want you permanently hurt or in pain for too long.â
As I finish, she slips off the bed and drops to her knees in front of me. Her voice is choked. âPlease donât leave meâ¦.â
âCharlotte. Stand up. I donât need you to kneel for me.â
She doesnât move. Sighing, I drop down to sit on the floor beside her. âCharlotte, I love you, and believe me, I never want to leave you, but you mustnât make life impossible for me. So long as I have your promise that you will never do such a thing again, then weâre good. Do I have that promise?â
âYes.â
âLook at me.â
Her eyes are red, her cheeks wet as she looks up. I wipe her tear-streaked face and kiss her. âItâs done. Come on, dry your eyes. Want to share a bath with me?â
She nods. âYes, but I need to shower first.â She vanishes into the shower room, and a moment later, there is the hiss of running water.
Several minutes later, she is still in there. âCharlotte, are you alright?â
Stupid question.
Did I overdo it? Perhaps.
There is no reply, only the sound of water, so I go in to find her with the showerhead directed inwards between her legs.
âWhat are you doing?â
âI tried to tell you, but you didnât want to listen. I couldnât take my pill the last few days. You should have used a condom.â
Ah, fuck! Of all the times to riskâ¦.
Oh God, what have I done to you, Babe?
I donât run the bath too warm, so as not to sting her sore ass. As we step into the foam together, she lies between my legs, her back against my chest so I can hold her in my arms. Her tears have dried, and she seems a little better.
But I feel lousy.
Guilt?
Her chest heavesâ¦.
âWhat?â
âI thought you would never hurt me like that; that it wasnât in you.â
âI didnât like doing it. But what about James? You enjoy it when he does it.â
âI always knew it was in his nature. Right from Day One. And I took it on board when I came back after that first week.â
âThen? But heâs never hurt you like that, surely? Your first dayâ¦â
âMen with wholly sunny dispositions donât go buying virgins at auction.â
*****
CHARLOTTE âHow are you feeling now?â asks my Master. âBetter now that youâve caught up on some sleep?â
âMmm, yes. Much better thanks.â
âCome and sit with me.â He holds out a welcoming arm, inviting me to the couch with him.
I join him, trying not to wince as, stiffly, I sit.
âCharlotte. Is something wrong?â
I bite back against the pain. âIâm fine, Master.â
He watches me. âNo, youâre not. Whatâs the matter?â
What do I say?
âMichaelâ¦. punished meâ¦.â
He stares at me, his expression unbelieving. âMichael? Punished you? What did he do?â
I donât know what to say, so I remain silent, trying not to chew my lip.
His faces changes, clouding over. âStand up. Show me yourself.â Still, I hesitate. âCharlotte! Do as I say. I want to see.â
I try stagger upright, but my thigh and buttock muscles are bruised and stiff.
My Master stands, helping me up, then lifting my skirt, he pulls away my panties, looking at the raw welts, He draws a long sigh, his body stiffening. âMichael did that?â
âYes, I did.â
Michael leans against the door, arms folded. His stance says aggression, but there is something in his eyesâ¦. Regret? Guilt?
âCharlotte and I had rather a long discussion. I think Iâve made my point well enough. How are you now?â He addresses the last question to me.
I shrug. âIt hurts. What do you expect me to say?â
My Master, his expression furious, steps towards Michael. âI thought weâd agreedâ¦.â
âMaster. Leave it. Itâs done.â
The two glare at each other, and I know that itâs not done.
*****
We sit together in awkward silence. I try to distract myself from the simmering pain in my butt by reading, but I have to do it standing.
Of a sudden, there is rumbling, a crashing sound. The building shakes.
My Master looks up and around. âWhat the hell was that?â
He and Michael look out of the windows and down, straining to see all angles.
I open my laptop, jabbing at the keyboard. My Master looks down at me, the question is his eyes. âThe security cameras,â I explain, blushing. I shouldnât be able to access them, butâ¦.
Mouth pursing in humour, âForgiven.â he says. âWhat can you see?â
âLooking now,â I say, clicking through screens and cams. Then I freeze at the scene before me:
Gunfire, explosions, men in masks: âThe buildingâs under attack!â
His eyes widen. âCome on,â he yells to Michael. The two dash from the room, but at the last moment, Michael turns, jabbing a finger at me. âYou stay here. You understand? No excuses. You stay here.
Yes?â
I nod. âYes.â
âIf you try to leave, Iâll know. The cams out in the hallâ¦.â
I bite my lip and nod again. He stares at me for a moment, then exits.
Alone in the apartment, I watch with growing horror at what is unfolding on my laptop screen. Smoke.
The ricochet of bullets from walls. Bodies lying on the ground, unmoving.
The door bursts open. Itâs Beth. âRichard sent me up here. Whatâs happening?â
âThe ground floor is taken I think, butâ¦.â I peer at the screenâ¦.
Oh, crap.â¦
âWhat?â
âThe buildingâs on fire.â