Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
I thought the spanking was harsh enough, but his words bite inexorably deep. He’s calling me a fucking idiot without calling me a fucking idiot, which he doesn’t have to do because I know I’m a fucking idiot. That’s the worst thing about being the sort of person who acts on impulse and gets carried away by passion. It’s not that I don’t know I’m being stupid, it’s that in the moment, the stupid thing feels like the right thing.
I experience all these thoughts as Zayne turns my ass from my ass to a super hot, super sore pain vending engine attached to my body. He is whipping my rear like I owe him money. Or like he owns my ass. Or like…. I am out of similes. I am too busy thrashing around beneath his hands, hoping for mercy and knowing I have done absolutely nothing to deserve it.
“I’m sorry!” I finally sob when it becomes apparent that Zayne is punishing me quite seriously. He has made himself my judge and my jury. He might be the last person left who cares about me this way. I am adored and obsessed over across thousands of planets, but Zayne is the only one who loves me enough to try to have me change my ways. “I am so sorry!”
“I’m sorry too,” he says, pausing for a moment. “I am sorry I have to do this to you. I am sorry your behavior has been so dangerous and reckless, and continues to be so. I would have forgiven you the stage chaos if you had not immediately thrown an appliance out a window. But I think you wanted this. I think you have craved someone to rein you in.”
As he says rein you in, he spanks me hard enough to make me squeal. Heat rushes through my flesh and finds a home in the most shameful parts of me, in the pulsing little bud between my thighs that demands sensation, and in the quickening of my pulse.
This is so damn wrong, and the wronger it gets, the more I feel hot waves of intense pleasure. It hurts. Every swat hurts. But it does more than hurt too. It excites me and it makes every nerve in my body perform a new function.
Zayne
I wanted to teach her a lesson. I wanted this to be pure discipline, but there is some quirk or kink inside this human of mine that revels in this attention. I consider stopping, and changing mode of punishment, but I am beginning to scent her arousal, and that arousal is turning me on too.
I can mate with her and make it discipline, I tell myself. Sex can be for more than pleasure. It can be for punishment too. So I keep spanking her, and I watch her cheeks blush with the subsequent slaps. It is satisfying to hear her wail and apologize, though I am not certain she truly means the apologies she is making. She might simply be desperate to have me stop.
“Do you know what it does to me to watch you hurl yourself into danger time and time again? Do you know how I worry for you? How I watch over you? How you occupy my thoughts time and time again?”
“Yes! No! I’m sorry!”
She’s not answering me, she’s just trying all the answers, hoping that one of them will earn her some mercy. But mercy is not what she needs. Pain is what she needs. Consequences. She needs to know that I will actually punish her to a point she will not enjoy. My human mate craves control. The kind of control that can only be given by someone willing to punish her when she deserves to be punished.
Lyric
He is punishing me, but I am going to come. I’ve tried very hard to be sorry and to take his discipline well, but it’s all getting twisted up inside me. The pain is pleasure, the punishment is care, and the care is more than I feel I deserve. I don’t know why Zayne cares about me, or why he loves me. I know I am lucky to be loved. I hope he will not tire of me.
I orgasm while squealing apologies and being spanked hard, the slaps falling hard and firm on my ass, driving me through climax with an even more intense flurry.
“You dare come when you are being punished?” Zayne lectures me, knowing precisely what I am doing. I cannot hide my writhing motions, the stiffening of my muscles and then the half-jerking motion of my hips as I come so fucking hard.
Zayne rips my pants down entirely, freeing my legs so they can be spread — and spread them he does, right around his waist. His scaled hands cup my aching ass as he lifts me up, looks me dead in the eye, and impales me on his cock with one firm, dominant, possessive stroke.