Page 102 of Bound By Her

He was pissed that her little speech was making him feel harder. What was it with this woman?

“But if you stay hard, then you get your full punishment. I think we can count that as a win for both of us.”

She took a step to the side, and he saw a very large wooden paddle. “I’d brace.”

He didn’t know what it meant to brace, but when the large paddle cracked across his ass, he let out a surprised breath as his body flew forward. Scrambling, his handsfound the handles, and he just managed to hold on when the next blow came down. His muscles tensed, and he pressed his forehead into the leather.

Pain cracked around where the paddle had struck, and a fire grew in his abdomen. After what might have been twenty strokes, his face was flushed. And the leather was no longer a cool reprieve, but instead slick with sweat and spit.

As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Bryson panted through his gag, struggling to catch his breath. There was a literal warmth radiating from his backside. He pictured deep reds and purples on the skin.

He imagined her admiring the color, and arousal filled his chest.

Fuck, fuck, pull yourself together.

Movement to his right snapped his focus, and a pinpoint fire seared across his already raw skin.

The belt came down fast.

Precise.

Wickedly precise.

Thin leather bit into his flesh, each strike layering over the last. The pain overtook the pleasure, and soon he was gasping for air.

Moisture blurred his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You might as well let it out,” she murmured. “I’m not stopping until you do.”

No fucking way.

His jaw locked.

Teeth sank into the gag.

She continued.

Each crack of the belt sent fire tearing across his nerves. The pain deepened, amplified by every new stroke. Bryson forced himself to breathe through his nose.

His mind tingled.

Control slipping. A fraction at a time. His handstwitched, and his feet bucked. An overwhelming urge to run consumed him, muscles screaming for escape.

There was too much give on the chains.

His body fought against itself, caught in the contradiction of wanting to break free and—as if reading his thoughts, she tightened the straps.

Another wrapped around his abdomen.

Now he couldn’t move. Not even an inch. Panic should have set in.

Should have unsettled him.

But instead, the fear melted, and the unease vanished.

“Nowhere to go.”Her voice was smooth.

A sharp slapcrackedacross his cock.

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