“Bend over,” He says.
I comply, but I’m screaming, “No” on the inside.
He starts spanking me with his hands and with a brush I hate. It seems to hurt even more since I don’t want it. He then takes the riding crop and whips the shaft across my back and ass. He pauses at one point and says while looking at my ass, “You’ve gained weight.”
I raise up to 3/4 standing and blurt out, “You’re going to bring that up NOW?” He pushes my back guiding me back down to the bed. I want to get up and storm out of the room. Instead, I start crying into the bed.
He grabs my hair and says, “Remember the punishment you’re due? Should I punish you today?”
“No!,” I say emphatically. WTF? With all I’ve been through lately, He decides NOW is a good time to punish me (for an offense that is almost two years old by the way).
He enters me from behind and says, “You’re wet.” My body is saying something completely different from my mind, and I’m mad about that.
“Get up on the bed, face down.” He spreads my ass cheeks and makes a pleasing noise. I know He is contemplating fucking me in the ass.
“I don’t want to be fucked in the ass today,” I blurt out knowing I probably just sealed my fate. But at that point I start feeling like I have nothing to lose. I don’t want it! And I want Him to know it!
“What do you want?” He asks.
“To take a nap,” I reply.
He applies lube to my ass and then insert His fingers. He fingers me for a while, then slips another finger in my pussy and starts fucking me with His fingers.
I feel the orgasm well up inside me. I try to figure out if I can squelch it…not give Him the satisfaction of making me cum. I hold on until I can’t hold on any longer. I ask to cum. I don’t want to ask, but I can’t NOT ask. Something else inside me is overriding my will, and I’m so mad. He says, “Yes, cum” and I do…three times.
He tells me to turn over. I don’t want to face Him. I don’t want to look Him in the face. He drapes himself over me. My arms are raised above my head. “Put your arms around me,” He says. The wall I’m trying to hold up is crumbling, and I’m mad at Him about that.
“Why are you crying?” He asks in between soft kisses on my cheek, “Just to make me hot?”
“I’m just one big NO right now,” I whimper.
I am holding my breath in between shallow gasps. It’s a signature trademark of me trying to hold it all in. He puts his mouth right up to my ear and whispers emphatically, “Let go. Let go.”
I fish for the words. I’d rather just run. He rises above me with a smirk on His face. “I want to rip that smirk off your face,” I say to start.
“Why? He asks. “This smirk isn’t what you think it is,” He continues.
“I want you to take me seriously,” I declare.
“And you don’t think I take you seriously,” He responds.
“I hate it when you’re right,” I add.
“Why?” He asks.
“Because I don’t want to be wrong.”
“My being right doesn’t make you wrong,” He states. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or more mad.
Whispering again in my ear, He asks, “Who do you belong to?”
“To you. To you, Sir,” I answer.
“And I will always take care of you,” He declares.
I want to believe that, and yet I have such trouble letting that sink in.
My resistance crumbles with every orgasm. I ride the edge of orgasm, begging Him to tell me when to cum for Him.
When we are done, I curl up to lay in the crook of His arm. “You may take a nap now,” He says.