Jen nestled against Ethan's chest as she sat in his lap, reveling in how good he smelled. It had been a trying day, and she was ready to go back to the hotel and grab a shower, a nap, and her lover.
He held tight, his broad arms encircling her. At the moment he was idly nibbling on her neck, which was making her giggle.
"Master," she said in a small voice, surprised at what she was about to ask.
"Yes?"
"Master, I have one more question to ask of you."
"Yes, my pet?" One hand grazed her buttock, sending a delightful shiver running through her. She wanted him so very badly, but somewhere over the last week she'd come to realize that she wanted the pleasurepain too.
Jen kept her eyes lowered as she climbed out of his lap and knelt before him. She put her hands behind her back and spread her legs wide; a traditional stance he often made her assume. "This slave would ask a favor of her Master, Sir."
Ethan regarded her for a minute. She couldn't tell whether he was actually surprised by this or simply playing out the time to torment her. Either way, the effect was there ... she began to tremble, anxious that she'd overstepped some boundary.
Jen forced herself to be still. She could steal feel the presence of the newly inducted Cailey in the room. If that woman could be brave enough to willingly enter service for her lover, she could be brave enough to ask Ethan for what she needed.
After all, she'd been in Ethan's service for months now, almost a year. The favor she sought was nothing new ... it was just that she'd never really asked for it before.
At last he spoke, breaking the silence of the office. "Yes?"
Barely a whisper from him, and yet it made her wet just to hear his voice. Sometimes she marveled at the way he'd taken over her psyche. Somewhere over the past ten months she'd lost herself in him; the recent three-day training session had only served to cement that hold.
Jen licked her lips and steeled herself. With a deep breath, she asked her favor, all in a rush. "This slave asks her master to please spank her. She has not been spanked in some time and needs to be."
"What was that, my little slut?"
"Spank me, Sir. Whip me. Flog me. Use me. Please, Sir, I need it. I need you to whip me."
Ethan was silent again for a moment, and then leaned forward in the heavy leather chair. "No, I don't think so. It's been only a day since you came out of training. Your body doesn't need it again so soon."
Jen fell forward with a wail. He'd rejected her!
Truth be told, the nature of his denial startled her. On some level she'd expected him to simply acquiesce. To command her to stand and assume a position. That he might question her readiness, however, hadn't even occurred to her as a possibility. To date he'd pushed her so far beyond her comfort zones, that she'd simply assumed she was ready for anything.
Ethan leaned forward and twined his fingers in her long, blonde curls, and then tightened his grip until she had tears in her eyes. He pulled back, dragging her up until his arm was level with the desk and she was forced back into a more traditional kneeling submissive pose.
She knew he favored using her hair to move her about, not least for the sheets of pain - simple pain - it produced. Gasping from the agony, she tried to control her breathing and assume the proper form. After a long minute of struggling she managed to spread her legs wide once more and lean back, her hands placed beside her.
He released his grip almost immediately and then leaned back in his chair. She kept her eyes on the floor, but could feel his terrible gaze on her.
Had it been such a sin for her to ask to be spanked? Apparently so, for she could feel his displeasure every bit as much as the points of her heels pressing into her toned buttocks.
"You do not tell me what you need, Slut. I am not interested in it." His voice was ice, and it made her mouth dry with fear to hear him talk to her in this tone. "You belong to me. When I want to spank you, I will spank you. Whether you 'need' it or not."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, wringing her hands in despair behind her back. Why did she keep making these mistakes? She'd been with him long enough to know better. And yet she still didn't entirely understand her place in this strange world she'd entered.
"So when I tell you you're not ready, that you need to rest, then that is final. My word is law to you. You are mine until you use your safeword. After you use it, you're free to seek out your needs. Until then, you are to conduct yourself in a manner befitting your station."
"Yes, Sir." She kept her head bowed, he kept quiet, and a terrible tension began to seep into the room.
After a moment, he turned away; she could hear the leather chair creak as he moved.
How then to convince him? Despite herself, she really wanted to be spanked. Something about the trip from the Driskill to his office had left her aching to be treated like a slutslave. The passionate bouts of lovemaking from the night before had been beautiful, but Jen realized that she'd truly embraced her new status.
His word was law in his household. She could accept that. She'd lived with it all these months, after all.
She was Ethan's concubine. His bound submissive. His whore. Truly, she had become his slutslave, fulfilling every aspect of that title.
Jen had long since realized that she wanted to be treated like that. The freedom of living as an extension of his will had proved immensely liberating for her; those years of self-doubt and insecurity seemed like a hazy bad dream these days. And the sex ... even thinking about the way he played her body to orgasm after orgasm just made her wet.
But she wanted him to fulfill this growing hunger in her, no matter the cost. Her body positively ached for the whip, the crop, the flogger, the paddle ... all the more so because he'd made it clear she couldn't have any of them.
"Master," she said again, surprising herself, "I simply must be spanked. I've been so bad to you, I need to be punished."
She was awash in sexual heat, a raw hunger rising in her that drowned out any sense of reason or propriety.
His hand lashed out so hard she fell out of her pose and onto the room's hardwood floor. Starburst appeared in her eyes and her head throbbed from the sudden collision with the polished wood.
Ethan sat back in his chair. "What did I just tell you? I decide what you need, Slut. I decide when you will be punished."
Jen nodded, hot tears in her eyes. She'd been so foolish to think that she could direct him to satisfy her by provoking him. But she was so hot, so ready, that she couldn't think clearly.
She needed to be spanked.
"Stand up." At the sound of his voice, she practically sprang from the floor, eager to show him that she was his good girl. Ethan stood and strode over to her.
Twin jolts of pleasurepain rocketed through her body as he swiftly reached up and grasped both of her nipple rings. Jen thrashed in silent agony, the spikes of pain matched only by the sudden throbbing of her clitoris. Suddenly, the fugue was just behind her eyes, ready to consume her.
"You don't listen."
He twisted the rings, rolling his hands outward slowly but deliberately until she thought he would tear the rings from her body. She whimpered at this deliberate torture, but reveled in the way it summoned the fugue in her. Jen could feel her clitoris within her, burning brightly as her body struggled to process the sensations of his touch.
"I wonder if those three days weren't enough for you." He looked her over in a very clinical manner. As her mind began to collapse beneath the creeping fugue, Jen wondered what more his trainers might do to her. She couldn't remember it all, but she did recall that much of it had been quite unpleasant.
"I wonder whether they taught you to control your hunger, or just to control your hunger for others."
His grip on her nipples was so very tight; she almost couldn't breathe from the desire building in her.
"I think that even if you used your safeword today, I'd simply ignore it. I think you're that far gone."
Frankly, when he talked like this she wanted to throw herself against him and beg him to fuck her.
Like a bitch in heat.
But she couldn't. As if sensing her evaporating self control, he lifted his hands up, pulling her up onto her tip toes by her nipples. Jen let out a long ragged moan as he did this, and began to pant.
She'd come so far with him. Her old self was truly gone.
"Now, let's see if we can't make you understand my point."
Ethan led her around to the front of the desk, walking slowly backwards as she tottered forward, dragged by the firm grip he had on her. The pain of it was so intense she thought she might pass out, but the raw hunger for him kept her upright and compliant.
"As you were before. Assume the position." She could only comply, so driven as she was to have him fuck her. Quickly she spread her legs wide and bent at the waist, reaching for the far corners of the desk with her arms. The cool wood helped salve her tortured buds, even if it crushed her full breasts against her.
Within seconds, the sharp spikes turned into a deep ache.
She smiled at this, happy that he had blessed her with such lingering pleasurepain.
As she stood there in silence, thinking of an argument that would convince him to satisfy her craving, rather than simply punish her she could feel her pert buttocks tingling in anticipation.
Would he use an actual paddle? They had several at the house that he'd taught her to adore. Perhaps a flogger? He often did; she'd come to think of it as his favorite. Or perhaps his hand?
Surely in an office like this he had to have some instrument available to him.
Mmm, she thought to herself, his hand would be lovely. That blessed sharp kiss of his skin against hers as he spanked her would be the purest fulfillment of her need.
