Page 88 of Starborn Husbands
“Bend from the knee, feet back,” Zhang says.
I do as told. My ankles are locked into something. I can’t close my legs or bring them down. My body’s stretched to its full length. I test the thing around my ankles. It’s immovable and unforgiving. I bounce helplessly, deep-seated need making itself known without any hope of relief.
“Spreader bar,” Zhang explains.
“Please jerk me off, please,” I beg. “I’ll be so good. I’ve learned my lesson.” I just need him to touch my dick for one second, and I’ll come like a geyser.
Gentle but dangerous fingers glide over the underside of my torso, sending a wake of quivers through me. I open my mouth to beg some more, but the words die in my throat the moment Zhang crosses his arms over his chest. I’m learning about him. The man has limits and I’m approaching one. He believes in a punishment well served. Begging for an orgasm is going to earn me another day in this thing.
“I’ll behave, Sir, but this is torture.”
He smirks. “That’s the point. Keep up the noises and the whimpering, though.”
It’s hard not to roll my eyes. I should get a lot of praise for that.
His thumb and forefinger find my nipples, pinching hard.
“Sir!” I wail, but he twists and yanks without quarter, and my body trembles with undeniable vulnerability for those evil fingers. My nipple lights with sharpness, hardening into a tight ball at the same time. A pang between my legs makes me fight to close my knees just to get a little bit of friction. Yeah, that’s not happening. I’m strung up to be plucked.
Zhang’s mouth is on mine, swallowing all my screams. I’ve quickly come to need his kisses. They’re the most secure thing in the world, filled with all the passion he has for me. He needs me as much as I need him. I try to breathe his air as I pant and writhe in place, unable to sit still.
“Beg me to strap your nipples,” he says as breathless as I am. “Tell me why you deserve it.”
Zhang’s chest shakes with laughter. “Oh, beautiful brat, you do deserve punishment for your crime, but I hope I never tame you.”
That warms me all over. He accepts the brat in me. “Didn’t you call yourself the brat tamer last night, Sir?”
“I never said I wouldn’t have fun trying, I simply hope I never win that battle. Time to strap these. Chest out and up for me.”
Moisture trickles from the crease of my ass, itching as it travels from my pucker to the leather below. My miserable cock drools from its cage.
Zhang lifts a strict leather tawse, plumping my tenderized nipple with his fingers. He snaps the evil instrument in his hand, and the tongue of the belt spanks the hard nub.Slap!
“Mhm—ow!”
Anotherslapto the other one in quick succession. Fresh moisture trickles from my ass, and I blink away the mist of tears. Morewhapsto my nipple come at a fast pace, and I fight to keep position as Zhang sets my nipples on fire. Desire licks over my cock and it seems unfair that it should suffer without ever being touched.
Sweat beads across his brow. He stops to wipe it with the back of his arm, and I catch a glimpse of the marriage rune there. It glimmers for me.
Mine. He’s beautiful, and he’s mine. Even while he turns my nipples into fiery lumps, I’m proud that he’s my husband.
“Is this how naughty husbands in my house should be punished?” he says.
“Yes, Sir.”
His fingers fondle my cock through the cage, barely touching it, but that’s all it needs. It’s at the height of sensitivity. Raw gasps croak from my throat and then a low keening sound follows. Tears of desperation wet my face. I try to close my legs to get more, but the damn spreader bar prevents it.
“If only you’d obeyed me. Think of the orgasm this would have brought you.”
I sniffle. That orgasm would have been epic. “You were right. It was not worth it, Sir.” I cut off the next words that would plead for him to reconsider, but it’s safe to say that I’ve learned the folly in fucking with my husband. Did I kinda sorta think I could walk all over him because he’s kind and respectful of me? Because he’s also a lovey-dovey sap half the time?
Yes, yes, I did. But I can admit when I’m wrong.
Sometimes.
“I think you’re nice and steeped in your own juices now,” he says, bringing wet fingers to my mouth, feeding me my own precum to prove it. “I’m going to paddle you until your ass is red, then I’ll fuck you until you remember that you obey me.”
A wave of perfect shame washes over me. I writhe and moan as my cock burns with heat, and my ass aches with the need for him to fill me. “Please, Sir. I want to please you.”
