Page 36 of The Count

I could feel the welts rising on my skin. I knew that I’d probably still have marks in the morning, but that didn’t much matter.

I fought the rising sense of panic that I knew would inevitably come. I wanted to take this with as much dignity as I could muster, but in the end, I knew he wouldn’t allow me to keep even a shred of it. The belt ruthlessly lashed the backs of my thighs and all of my bare cheeks. The tip of the belt was the most painful part, the ache sinking deep with every terrible lash.

Even as the belt kept falling, I could feel my pussy growing wetter. My core spiraled tighter and I whined softly, needing to come more than I ever had in my life.

“Please. Please,” I begged.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to survive the burning that was blazing across my bottom. My breath hitched and I tried to remain strong, but that only made my aroused panic simmer even hotter.

He leaned over me, laying the belt right in front of my face as he released my wrists from his hold. His other hand dove between my legs, finding me soaking wet just for him.

Fuck. Yes.This.

This was what I wanted.

He teased me, slowly at first, keeping the pressure light even as I writhed beneath him. My hips rocked, trying to rub myself a bit harder against his rough knuckles, but he wouldn’t give me what I wanted. Instead, he teased me.

Relentlessly.

He edged me to orgasm, not once or twice, but so many times that I lost count. I wailed with frustration, the painful sting of denial ripping through me again and again. I begged and pleaded for mercy, but none ever came.

“You don’t need your freedom, do you, Jasmina?” he asked pointedly.

“Please,” I whispered. He edged me once again and I screamed, so desperate that I knew I couldn’t stand this for much longer. The pad of his finger pressed a bit harder on my clit and I moaned, hoping that this time he would grant me mercy.

He didn’t.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“Youneedto be like this. Naked and trembling, waiting for me to punish you, to take you, to use you.”

My heart nearly stopped beating, the air ripped right out of my lungs. My fingers fisted the blankets beneath me. He was still leaning over me, and I wanted nothing more than for him to free his cock so that he could fuck me with it.

Hard.

“Yes…” I whispered. I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but there were no other options.

“You don’t only need this, but a part of you wants it, isn’t that, right?” he continued.

My body blazed at his suggestion, as if it was answering for me without a word.

“I can’t…” I blurted out. His hand slapped my pussy. I was so over-sensitized that the sting was far more than I could have ever prepared for.

“Yes. Yes, I want this!” I wailed. My face flushed hot with shame, and I was grateful that I could hide it from him in the blankets that covered the bed. Being forced to admit it to him, bare like this with my bottom marked from his belt was shameful in a way I’d never imagined it could be and I wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up so that I could disappear and deal with my mortification on my own.

I knew he wouldn’t allow that though.

His fingers returned to my stinging folds, his touch still too light to make me teeter over the edge into the orgasm I so desperately needed. When he increased the pressure, I became hopeful that I’d given him what he wanted, that now he might allow me to come.

It was a fool’s hope.

He just teased me again, bringing me right to the edge before he tore his touch away. A forlorn cry escaped me, and my entire body quaked, suffering under the thrall of insurmountable pleasure that had built up inside of me.

It needed to be let out.

“Please. Please fuck me,” I begged.

“Do you need a fucking, bad girl?”

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