Enough

January 6

Glancing at his reflection in her mirror, she followed the movements of his hands. He was standing in front of the vanity in the en suite, twisting the knot of his tie into place. He was 6'5" with a muscular physique which he honed daily, for reasons of fitness rather than vanity. His disarmingly blue eyes contrasted heavily with the rest of his form. His body was a paragon of strength and dominance but his eyes were so beguilingly bright that he could look almost childlike at times. However, the twin azure pools were typically clouded by a deviant glint which burned, now, as he turned to regard her.

A small smile danced over his lips. She was nearly a foot smaller than him and slim without being too skinny. Her hips bones jutted out gently and her clavicle crowned her chest. When she arched her stomach skywards and stretched her arms to their full potential, cat-like, as she lay with her head on his lap watching television or first thing in the morning as she stirred from sleep, her ribcage emerged underneath her breasts. These glimpses of her skeleton were a reminder of the fragility he loved. Even when he was his roughest with her, even during his severest punishments, he was acutely aware of her vulnerability. She trusted him to bridle his strength, he could easily cause her serious *** if he did not.

She applied the feline flick which completed the black line circling her eye. Her long blonde lashes were coated in mascara and her cheeks were rouged. A look which could seem overdone on other girls highlighted her natural features excellently. She always looked elegant. It was her hair, he thought to himself, that gave her that air of majesty. Strawberry blonde: a colour that hovered between auburn and gold.

Her breasts were not large but bigger than her frame suggested. The floor length chiffon dress showcased them beautifully. Her hair had been teased into loose curls and fell to the bottom of her exposed shoulder blades, grazing the midnight blue material. Turning away from the mirror, she rose from the chair at her dressing table and looked at him, seeking approval.

'You look perfect, princess.'

She approached him, pride lighting up her face. The natural sway of her hips, so often mistaken by others for arrogance, had a mesmerising effect on him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tipped her chin upwards slightly to meet his lips. Her round-toe patent pumps afforded her extra height and they both adjusted, unused to the small distance between them. He reluctantly broke away from the kiss and urged her towards the door.

The charity ball was at a prestigious hotel in central London. She ***red upwards, appreciating the architecture of the building as he reached for her hand. She curled and laced her fingers through his.

In the lobby, he soon acquired a glass of champagne for each of them and they were promptly accosted by various acquaintances. As they conversed, she recognised the traits that had initially attracted her to him. His voice commanded respect and his words held the attention of anybody within earshot. He was in his early thirties but possessed an astuteness that belied his age.

He held her in similar esteem. Younger than him, a recently-qualified lawyer with two degrees from illustrious universities, she masked a natural shyness and presented herself to the world as independent and ambitious. Comparing this poised, engaging woman with the submissive whore that offered herself to him each night caused his cock to stir. The thought of having her suck him off and struggle to swallow all of his seed - so as not to smudge her make up - before emerging immaculate was making his cock harden. Nobody knew of their secret dynamic and they both wanted it to remain that way. Even so, the risk of being discovered only added to his desire. It was too much to bear.

He leant into her ear and whispered, 'I'm going to take you into one of the bathrooms and facefuck you, you dirty cocksucking slut.'

A strange, unfamiliar feeling of resistance washed over her. She didn't feel like submitting to him and the champagne had emboldened her. She wanted to test him.

'Can you fuck my cunt instead?' She replied and pulled away. He saw a look of defiance cross her face. '...Alex.' She added pointedly.

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He could take her question as a request, if he chose, rather than insubordination. It was the final word that cemented her meaning. In their day to day life, she regularly used his given name. He liked the way her tongue curled around the syllables. Yet, she always called him Master or Sir or even Daddy when he was asserting his dominance over her. It wasn't something he insisted on, she'd starting doing it of her own accord, but choosing deliberately to use his familiar name was a certain attempt at disobedience. He laughed.

He would fuck her, he decided, but he was going to shoot his load into her mouth, regardless of what she wanted. Making their excuses, he led her to a bathroom on the second floor, to minimise the chance of disturbance. Like the rest of the hotel, they were ornate and contained several chairs and a chaise longue. Wedging a chair under the door handle, he ordered her to lie on the chaise. She did as she was told. Just as he went to straddle her, she slipped from underneath him and laughed, playfully. He raised his left eyebrow. It was a habit that made his face unreadable: he did it when he was amused; when he was surprised; when he was angry. Unsure of his reaction, she met his gaze and asked:

'May I go on top tonight, Sir?'

Unwilling to let her bratty behaviour prevent his release, he granted her request. He would correct her later with a quick hand spanking. She eased her legs over his hips and glanced up to his face, checking she had permission to unzip him. He nodded, once, barely noticeably. Unfastening his trousers and shifting his boxers down slightly, she watched his cock spring free with an audible sigh. Pushing her knickers to the side, she rocked her hips forward until her thighs were astride his cock but her pussy was just out of reach. Underneath her bravado, she knew that she was only being allowed to exercise this superficial control because he was letting her. As if to remind her, he gripped her hips and ***d her downwards, spearing her with his cock. They groaned almost in unison.

Remaining fully-clothed was a thrill to which they were unaccustomed. Watching her chest heave under the confines of her dress, he clenched his fists to restrain himself from tearing the material away and biting her nipple. She was never hidden from him as he fucked her; a rush of exhilaration ran through him as he pictured the leaking cunt that enclosed his cock, knowing her whole body would be unveiled to him later. His hips surged upwards to invade her deeper, their moans echoed around the high ceilings. The rub of his suit on her inner thighs generated a hypersensitivity that transcended her pussy. Occasionally, a slip of chiffon would catch under her and stroke along her lips. She slowly increased the pace and twisted to gawk at their reflected bodies in the gold-edged mirror.

Feeling her muscles convulse around his cock, he knew she getting close and it pulled him towards his own orgasm.

'Ask.' he ordered, huskily.

She tipped her head forward and appealed to him.

'Beg.' he replied, cruelly demanding more from her, knowing she would stave off her climax until he permitted it to her.

She begged in seductive pants, almost incoherently, but he denied her.

'Get off my cock and kneel between my legs, slut.' She was going to lick up his seed greedily. His refusal to allow her to cum was retribution for her naughtiness.

Seconds later, she was still impaling herself repeatedly on him. A vexed hand reached up to dislodge her by *** but stopped, mid-air, when he noted the glazed sheen on her eyes. Her head was thrown back, her spine arching, forcing that ribcage to ***k through her skin. Her breath came in ragged bursts, interspersed with gratified moans. Her cunt was tightening like beating heart around his cock.

He lay back, assessing her coolly. Anger had quelled his orgasm.

As she recovered, a feeling of cold realisation engulfed her. She felt nauseous. Lowering her head, ***fully slowly, she took in his face. His teeth were gritted. His eyes were hard little diamonds boring into her.

His left arm struck her left side with such impact that she landed, gracelessly, in a heap on the floor. Before she was even aware of his movement, he was stalking towards the sinks on the far wall. Snatching something in his hand, she fixed her stare on his activity. Discerning what he grasped within white knuckles, she staggered to her feet, wide-eyed and panic-stricken. He turned to look at her and the decorative hairbrush, designed to complement the boudoir-style bathroom, was no longer obscured.

'No, Daddy, please...no!' she implored.

Her legs were buckling under her as he began to advance. No, she couldn't take it, she would be unable to sit for the imminent meal and everyone would know her shame. She span around and jolted from the room, sending the chair toppling to the floor. She hurtled away as quickly as the restrictive dress and precarious heels would allow. Her underwear was still rearranged.

He did not follow her, he would not be drawn into her absurd games. He simply returned to the party.

Moving through the large ballroom, he made polite conversation with the other guests but his eyes continually scanned the crowd. He was a lion, ruthlessly hunting his prey. When they inquired as to her whereabouts, he replied brusquely that she was talking to some friends across the room. He had not seen her since she fled the bathroom but knew she remained in the hotel. He had driven and the keys were still in his pocket; finding no bag matched her outfit, she had nowhere to keep any *** so he stored the cash from their joint account in his wallet. She had no way of escaping.

She revealed herself nearly an hour later. As the gong reverberated around the room, signalling dinner, he felt her presence by his right shoulder. He did not turn to look at her, he merely clasped a large hand around her elfin wrist and dragged her from the room. They brushed past the streams of people pressing, in the opposite direction, towards the double doors to the great hall. She craved the presence of his protective arm as the jostling shoulders barged her but he marched in front, his fingers marking her skin with an ugly, red imprint. Leading her through the foyer and into the bitingly cold night air, the concierge barely acknowledged them - just another drunken, warring couple leaving prematurely.

He didn't open the passenger door for her as he normally did. She had to struggle into the low sports car unassisted, her dress catching on her heels. By the time she had settled into her seat, he'd already turned the ignition. The second she had shut the door, he pulled away.

He always drove fast but she never doubted that he was in control. Tonight, he seemed erratic. She could see the veins in his neck straining against his skin. His jaw was visibly tense.

He could sense her *** as she cast anxious, sideways glances at him.

'Daddy...' She tried, in a tiny voice.

He snapped his head towards her, ***ing her with a look of pure rage.

'If you say another word, I will pull over and punish you on the side of the road. Everyone will see what a dirty, disobedient little cunt you are.'

The journey continued in silence.

He pulled into the driveway and shot out of the car, slamming the door shut. She scurried to keep up with his long strides. He swung the front door open and headed for the living room, pouring himself a whiskey and discarding his suit jacket on the sofa. She stood just back from the threshold of the room, remaining in the dark of the hallway.

Without turning towards her, he calmly ordered her to unzip her dress. Her hands slowly drifted to the her side, her left one holding the material taut whilst her right pulled the zip down, shakily. She stared at the back of his head, trying to gauge just how furious he was.

'I want that dress on the floor when I turn around.' He growled, already rounding on her, slamming his glass onto the coffee table. She pulled it quickly down over her hips and let it fall unceremoniously around her ankles. He was bearing down on her now. She involuntarily stepped backwards and he grabbed her by the throat.

'Do not try to run from me again, you little bitch.' He spat at her and squeezed her alabaster neck. He looked down at her form, clad only in lacy black underwear and heels. He could see goosebumps bristle over her skin; her throat pulsed beneath his fingers. He released her.

'Get upstairs. Now.'

She complied immediately and he followed, two steps behind her. As she neared the top of the staircase, he took aim and delivered a stinging blow to her rear. Gasping, she tripped over the final step. He dragged her across the landing by her hair, unaffected by her clawing hands and breathless pleas. Once inside the bedroom, he relinquished his grip and ordered her to stand. Tottering to her feet like a newborn deer, he considered how endearing he would find this under normal circumstances. Despite himself, his cock twinged in his trousers. He studied her panting chest and parted lips.

'Take off your heels.' he ordered.

She obeyed and lost five inches of height. She was back to her proper place, the top of her head in line with his clavicle.

Grabbing a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck, he ***d back her to her knees.

'Get your collar.' He hissed down at her.

Eyes fixed firmly on the ground, she crawled towards the drawer in which he kept the toys. Sitting atop the row of paddles, whips, crops, canes and all manner of dildos was the box containing her collar. To the untrained eye, the velvet box looked as though it held a diamond necklace. She snapped it open and the collar nearly fell to the floor but she sunk her teeth into the leather before pushing the box back the drawer. She crawled back to his feet, rocked back onto her heels and lifted her chin slightly, all the while keeping her gaze on his pointed brogues. He snatched the collar from her mouth and waited for her to lift her hair. When she did not immediately comply with his silent command, he crouched in front of her and leaned forward until their noses were millimetres apart. Her eyes flitted upwards to see that the cool blue water of his irises was stormy.

'Lift up that fucking hair.' He snarled, punctuating the sentence with a firm slap to her cheek. He rarely raised his voice to her; the cold, controlled tone he used when he was angry unnerved her far more than shouting.

She twisted the hair into a knot atop her head whilst he returned to his full height and buckled the collar around her neck. A nudge of her hands sent them dropping back onto her upper thighs. Her locks tumbled down her back.

He seized the leash from its hook and attached it to the D-ring. Walking towards the bed with a pace that was very unforgiving for a girl scampering on her hands and knees, she prayed he wouldn't turn around and witness her ridiculous scurrying. He stopped just short and span around to look at her undulating body, tugging hard on the leash. Sitting on the bed, he loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. She felt like a petulant child as he prepared to spank her. The *** of being made to feel like a silly little girl about to be hauled over his knee made her blush. It also, she suspected, was making her wet.

He demanded that she remove her bra. As she unclipped the clasp, she knew he would have her leave her knickers on. He liked to remove them slowly, after the first few slaps; initially, pulling them to just below the curve of her bottom, then to her knees before finally slipping them over her ankles.

'Bend over me, slut.'

She heeded his instruction instantly. Lying prone over his lap, his cock jutting into her stomach, she knew that any remnant of the self-assurance she had felt earlier had evaporated completely.

The grinding of her hipbones on his thighs as she adjusted into position, coupled with the lightness of her frame over his lap, made her consider her frailty again. It was turning him on. He wanted to punish this little, defiant bitch. He was going to have her crying and pleading for mercy. He filled with morbid delight at the thought of her thrashing arms and unintelligible wailing.

His hand descended upon her barely-covered behind with a resounding crack. She bucked forward and drew in a sharp breath. His opening strikes were normally lighter and he increased the *** with each blow. Tonight, he was beginning as he meant to go on. He was not going to warm her up first.

Curling the leash around his left fist to prevent her head from jerking away, he rained down a series of pitiless strikes. She could feel her will not to cry breaking already. After what seemed to be an endless *** on her rear, his hand came to rest on the back of her thigh.

'Pull them down.' he snapped.

Normally, he drew them down himself. He knew she would be mortified at the prospect of exposing herself to him with her own hands. She hooked her thumbs into the lace and slipped them to just underneath the curve of her bottom. A globule of wetness extended from her cunt lips to her knickers and formed, for the briefest of seconds, a single strand of spider web before splitting. A guttural breath escaped him. He growled like this when he was incensed and when he was aroused. Tonight, the noise embodied both.

'Ask me to continue your punishment.' he whispered, ***fully.

She felt utterly defeated. He knew exactly how to strip her of her dignity. She would have to beg him to carry on beating her when every cell in her body was already desperate for him to stop.

'Please continue punishing me, Sir.' she murmured.

'Speak louder, I can't hear what you're saying.' He compelled, knowing exactly what she had just said.

She repeated the phrase with a little more volume.

He returned immediately to spanking her remorselessly. She writhed in ***, her eyes threatening to spill. He had never used his hand with such *** before.

'Please, Daddy, stop...please...I'm sorry! It hurts so much, Daddy! Please!'

He answered her by wrenching at her leash, the jolt causing her tears to trickle down her face.

He was beginning to feel irritated by the thin slip of material blocking his view of her exposed pussy. He ripped them with one hand and flung the material to the floor. His arm was starting to tire and he knew they both needed a break before he continued with her punishment. Just as he landed the final few blows, her hands shot behind her, protecting her fiery, red cheeks.

"Move those hands away! I'll decide when to stop spanking you and I'll have no input from you, you unruly little cunt.'

Her hands moved slowly back to their previous position, her back rose and fell as she tried to stifle her sobs.

He would spank her 10 more times, at an alarmingly fast rate. As he delivered the seventh strike, her hands clutched her cheeks once more.

'Enough.' he said. His voice gave nothing away.

She wondered if she had persuaded him to stop. Her cries had never swayed him before when he punished her. She felt extremely uneasy.

He nudged her off his lap with a jerk of his knee.

'Your continued defiance has only caused you further punishment.' He announced gravely. The position of the central light, the only one illuminated, meant that his bright eyes were obscured by shadow. His face looked unimaginably menacing.

'Bend over the foot of the bed.'

She crawled and positioned herself between the posts of the bed, facing the headboard. The leash dangled between her tits. She could hear him opening the drawer and removing items from it.

Craning his head to inspect her defenceless body as his closed the drawer, he could see her pussy lips glistening with moisture. He smiled to himself.

He stood behind her and traced a line around her collar, caressing her throat, until she was no longer crying. His cock rubbed her open pussy through the material of his trousers. She thought how erotic it felt, to be nude in front of a fully-clothed man. It also made her feel terrifyingly ***.

Standing up straight, he instructed her to put her hands behind her back before he clicked the leather restraints shut around them. Kicking her legs apart, he tied them to the posts with rough rope.

'When I tell you to keep your hands away, you will obey me. Count these for me.'

She began nodding frantically as the belt sliced through the air and came to an abrupt stop on her crimson cheek. She managed to yelp out: 'One, Master!'

He aimed further shots, each one hitting a piece of flesh previously untouched by the violent leather. She was able to cry out the number between whimpers. The ninth blow struck her at the top of her thigh and she let out a wail of agony before announcing 'Nine, Master!'

The tenth struck her cunt. It was too much, she pushed her full weight into the bed and sobbed into the duvet. He lay his body over her back and whispered into her ear, 'Come on, pet, don't fail me on the final stroke.' He fondled a lock of her tawny hair. He listened intently to her laboured breathing. Finally, he heard it:

'Ten, Master.' she sighed.

He lifted himself off her and knelt down on the floor between her legs.

'Do you think you've learnt your lesson?' he inquired, softly.

'Yes, Sir.' came the small voice.

He pushed his tongue into her wet slit, extricating a surprised and grateful moan from her. He withdrew it and let it pirouette around her clit, collecting her moisture. The raw *** that had captured her body was superseded by flutterings of pleasure. She began to arch her back. Amazed at how close she was to climaxing, she whimpered:

'May I cum, Daddy?'

His tongue retracted.

'I thought you had learnt your lesson?' His voice had an edge that was only thinly-veiled. 'My pleasure comes before your's yet you have found release once already without my permission and are asking for it again, without having made me cum once.'

He knew it was cruel to toy with her like this, she couldn't help but react like this to his ministrations, but he had one final thing to inflict upon her. She looked at him, pleading silently but too afraid to actually speak.

'Don't move.' he sniggered sadistically as he left the room.

She heard him go downstairs and quickly return to the room, carrying his suit jacket. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him retrieve something from the inner pocket. He stood to her right and observed her face. Thin black lines streaked away from ***shot eyes. Her lower lip was bleeding from where she had bitten down so hard. He ran his thumb over it to wipe away the angry scarlet before licking it off his thumb in a single deft movement. He bent over to kiss her forehead lightly, before revealing what he held behind his back. It was made of thick, dark wood and a trail of gold flowers had been ***ted on the back.

The hairbrush.

Now that it was just inches from her face, she could appreciate just how threatening the implement was. It looked far heavier than the brush he kept in the drawer. The tears began to carve a salty path down her cheek once again. She didn't know how she would take anymore. All of her reserves of strength had been sapped. She felt broken.

'Shhh.' he cooed into her ear, kissing the lobe. 'It's almost over.' He pulled away from her and went to stand at the foot of the bed.

'When I tell you to do something, I expect your total obedience. You will not defy me. Is that understood?'

She nodded.

'Answer me.' He barked.

'Yes, Sir.' She stammered.

'When I choose to punish you, you will accept it and be grateful for it. You will never, ever run from me again.'

Her voice was weak with tears, 'Yes Sir, I'm so-'

Before she could tense herself in preparation for the inevitable blow, it came crashing down onto her left cheek. A fire unfurled across her rear. She had never felt a *** that compared to it. She screamed.

When she had composed herself adequately, he repeated the action on her right cheek. He began the process again. Left cheek, right cheek. With each blow, she thought she was going to pass out. Fighting to stay conscious, a blow landed in the middle of her rear and she heard the hair brush clatter on to the floorboards. He placed a soft kiss on each cheek. Her hands were released.

He moved back into her field of vision, clutching a glass of water he must have poured downstairs and brought up with him. He sat on the side of the bed, his body turned towards her and tipped the glass up to her lips. She gulped down the liquid eagerly, tears still dribbling down her face and into the glass. When she had finished, he placed it onto the bedside table and took her face in his hands and left little kisses all over it. She felt herself relax against his sturdy hands, the same hands that had caused her such suffering. Her tears subsided as her kissed her inky eyes. He craned under her to kiss her collar and the bone directly beneath it. A contended sigh escaped her.

'I think you have one more task to perform before I release you, don't you, pet?'

She nodded her head contritely as he smiled down at her. Standing again, he kicked off his shoes, removing his tie, shirt and socks at breakneck s***d. His trousers were unzipped and discarded, taking his boxers with them. She looked lovingly at his toned, muscular body - warrior-like - her gaze focussing on the proud cock at his centre. He lay on the bed and it pointed up towards her lips.

She lowered her head onto it, licking down the seam. Her tongue encircled the swollen shaft, flicked lightly over the head before she plunged downwards. He let out an ***istic groan. Barely avoiding gagging on his cock, which was far larger than her mouth, she flexed her head up and down. She moved her lips to his head, seeming as though she would break contact, and then pushed him back into her pursed mouth. One hand cupped his balls, occasionally grazing against the sensitive skin below, whilst the other twisted around the base of his cock. His own hands remained where they were; for once, not forcing her head down as his pleasure increased. Periodically, a sound of appreciation floated from his lips. He was nearing his peak. Sensing him tighten, she sped up her actions. His load hit the back of her throat in jets and she closed her lips tightly around him, still bobbing her head slightly, to prevent any leaks.

He stroked her hair softly as she released his cock, cleaning it with little flicks of her tongue.

'Good girl.' he breathed, in a voice that almost crooned.

Lifting himself from the bed, he walked around to her ankles, crouching as he untied them and letting the rope drop to the floor. Pushing a strong forearm into the back of her knees and another around her shoulders, he carried her to his side of the bed - like a groom carrying his new bride.

'I'm really sorry, Daddy...' she sighed, looking up at him.

He kissed her diminutive nose.

'I know, pet.' He smiled at her, the piercing blue eyes beaming too.

'I love you.'

He responded by pressing a passionate kiss onto her; breathing the same words back to her, into her open mouth.

'Turn over, princess.' he requested, placing her on her back. She rolled onto her side of the bed and lay prone on top of the duvet. Reaching for the moisturiser from the table, he placed a soft hand at the small of her back before smearing the cool liquid across her rear with the other. He took time and care, caressing every mark. Welts were already forming and he could see light violets and indigos blending with the cherry red. She squirmed a little as he rubbed tenderly and then kissed each cheek in turn. He looked at her face, her eyes already closing and an almost undetectable smile playing on her lips. He stretched over her head to her bedside table and retrieved her make-up removing wipes. As he gently stroked the kohl away from her eyes and cheeks, she half-opened her glittering orbs to regard him.

He moved the moisturiser and wipes off the bed and carefully ***led the duvet from under her and replaced it over them both. He clicked the light off and pulled a possessive arm around her, gathering her frame into his chest. He gently eased his stiffening cock into her slit.

January 7

I'm not really all that into ***, but that was so amazing. Such a hard lesson learned. And being mounted on his cock at the very end like that. I'd be struggling not to cum