Page 23 of Vienna Betrayal

The chemistry she’d been surprised by when he first touched her was nothing compared to the connection she now felt. She felt submissive, truly submissive, for the first time in years.

And it was that full submission that sparked a terrible desire. She wanted to beg him to hurt her until she was bruised and bleeding. Knowing, trusting, that he wouldn’t go that far.

“Turn around, offer me your breasts again.”

Her tits ached, especially her right nipple, but she obeyed, presenting her breasts to be cropped.

Thwack, thwack.

A dry sob escaped her, and Alena was no longer thinking about this moment. Instead all the things she’d shoved down, all the things that secretly hurt her, surfaced.

Insults and abuses that she’d dismissed with a witty comment or comeback were now dragged up from the depths of her memory.

Only to burn to ash as they met the ferocious heat of Alexander’s dominance.

He switched to the flogger, starting up the sideways figure-eight pattern once more.

When the first pass struck her breasts, Alena nearly screamed. She was so sensitive. She couldn’t take it.

She could. For him, she could.

And at this point it wasn’t the pain she feared, but the private, personal revelations.

She wore a mask, which wasn’t remarkable. Everyone did. It just so happened that hers was a bit thicker, a bit more permanent, than what other people wore.

And Alexander was stripping all that away.

She still heard the flogger but no more blows fell. Chain clanked and her wrists lowered a few inches. Her overworked arm muscles sent up a protest, but that was minor pain in comparison to her aching breasts.

“Feet together. Now bend over.”

She was tired and aching, raw emotionally and physically.

And he was still going to use her. “Sir, I…”

“I’m not done using you. You will submit until I release you.”

When she’d first been exploring BDSM, and had stumbled while explaining exactly what turned her on, a Domme had given her the language she’d been missing to verbalize her desires.

Submission by force.

She wanted the Dom to force her to find and touch her own limits. When she pleaded prettily that she couldn’t take a bigger plug, she wanted the Dom to hold her down and work it into her ass anyway. It was the very opposite of the affirmative consent that every man or woman should have in real life, which made it taboo, and probably why she found it so arousing.

The flogger was finally silent, its soft, wicked tails still.

If she hadn’t been so emotionally wrung out, she would have told Alexander exactly how hot she found his words and actions. How a moment ago she’d been on the verge of breaking down and crying about things that she’d bottled up for years, and instead she was so turned on she could feel her heartbeat in her pussy.

Alexander’s hands helped her into position, firm and a bit impatient, but not rough when he grabbed her red, aching hips.

With his help, she assumed a somewhat awkward position. She was bent at the waist, not at ninety degrees, but closer to forty five. Her elbows were crooked, wrists behind and above her head.

She wasn’t sure how long she could hold this. After only a minute she felt the strain in her shoulders and lower back.

His fingers, which now felt cool in comparison to her heated flesh, glided over her back, pausing occasionally, probably to inspect her for any bruising.

Then he slid his fingers under the back waistband of her panties, and tugged.

Alena sucked in air and froze.

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