Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

L ucas

I couldn’t keep a smile from my lips, though I meant to take Alice’s first real discipline session very seriously. I brought the martinet down again, watching with fascination and growing sexual hunger as the leather strands splayed across Alice’s tender flesh. The impact left a crisscrossing pattern of pink lines on her pale skin. Alice’s body jerked, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

“Two, Monsieur ,” she gasped out, her voice quavering.

I could see the conflict written in every line of her body. She trembled, her fingers clutching desperately at the bedspread. Yet even as she flinched away from the pain, her hips seemed to cant upward ever so slightly, as if seeking more.

The third stroke landed, slightly lower, catching the sensitive area where bottom meets thigh. Alice yelped, her back arching beautifully.

“Three, Monsieur ,” she whimpered.

I paused, drinking in the sight before me. Alice’s bottom was beginning to glow a lovely shade of pink, the marks from the martinet clearly visible against her fair skin. Her thighs quivered, and I could see the glistening evidence of her arousal between them.

Part of me wanted to throw aside the martinet and bury my cock in her wet heat right then and there. But I knew I needed to see this through. Alice needed to understand the full extent of my control over her body and her pleasure.

“You’re doing well, ma chère ,” I murmured, running a hand soothingly down her spine. “But we’re far from finished.”

I raised the martinet again, letting it whistle through the air before connecting with Alice’s tender flesh. The sharp crack echoed in the room, followed by Alice’s strangled cry.

“Four, Monsieur ,” she gasped, her voice thick with unshed tears.

With each stroke, I watched Alice’s reactions carefully. The way her breath hitched, the subtle arch of her back, the glistening evidence of her arousal—it all told a story of a woman on the precipice of embracing her submissive nature. But I knew she wasn’t quite there yet. She needed to be pushed further, taken to the edge of what she thought she could endure, and made to feel that her master had punished her thoroughly for her disobedience.

“Five, Monsieur ,” Alice whimpered after another stinging blow. Her bottom had bloomed a beautiful shade of pink, the marks from the martinet creating an intricate pattern across her pale skin.

I paused, running my hand soothingly down her spine. “You’re doing so well, ma chère ,” I murmured. “But we’re only halfway there.”

Alice’s body tensed at my words, a small sob escaping her lips. Part of me ached to gather her in my arms, but that wasn’t what she, or I, needed right now.

I raised the martinet once more and struck again, letting the leather whistle through the air before connecting with Alice’s tender flesh. The sharp crack echoed in the room, followed by Alice’s strangled cry.

“Six, Monsieur ,” she gasped, her voice a wrenching sob.

I watched intently as the leather strands left their marks across her reddening skin. The contrast of the angry welts against the sweet, rounded flesh of her delectable bottom mesmerized me. With each stroke, I felt a confusing mix of arousal and something deeper, more tender. Part of me reveled in Alice’s submission, in the power I held over her trembling body. But another part wanted to stop the punishment, to comfort her.

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear these dangerous thoughts. I couldn’t allow myself to develop real feelings for Alice. She was meant to be a diversion, a plaything—nothing more. And yet…

“Seven, Monsieur ,” Alice whimpered after another stinging blow.

Her voice, soft and submissive, sent a jolt of electricity through my body. I couldn’t deny the effect she had on me, the way my heart raced at the sight of her bent over before me, accepting my discipline on her submissively presented backside. It felt like much more than just physical attraction. Alice had something about her—her intelligence, her spirit, the way she both yielded to and resisted my control—that fascinated me in a way no woman ever had before.

Alice

My face had crumpled into a mask of woe, a little girl’s pout at the cruel punishment her guardian had decreed for her, the terrible sting of the lashes on the ancient implement of family discipline—and the matching sting of the humiliation. Punished naked, bending over my bed. Taught a lesson in obedience by the man who kept me, the firm-handed sponsor who believed in enforcing his will the old-fashioned way.

I buried my face in the bedspread, trying to muffle my cries as the martinet continued to lash across my tender flesh. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pain radiating through my body, yet underneath it all was an undeniable current of arousal that both thrilled and terrified me.

“Eight, Monsieur ,” I choked out, my voice thick with tears.

Lucas’ hand came to rest on the small of my back, his touch both soothing and electrifying. “Just two more, ma chère ,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well.”

His words of praise sent an unexpected warmth through me, even seeming to ease some of the sting from my punished bottom. I found myself arching slightly into his touch, craving more even as I dreaded the final strokes.

The martinet whistled through the air once more, connecting with a sharp crack that echoed in the quiet room. I cried out, my body jerking against the bed.

“Nine, Monsieur ,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

I tensed, bracing myself for the final stroke. When it came, it was harder than the others, landing right at the sensitive crease where my bottom cheeks became my thighs. A strangled sob escaped my lips as white-hot pain bloomed across my skin.

“T-ten, Monsieur ,” I managed to whimper, my whole body trembling.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was my ragged breathing. I remained bent over the bed, my body quivering with a mix of pain, humiliation, and something else I didn’t want to name.

Lucas’ hand moved from my back, trailing lightly over my punished flesh. I hissed at the contact, even his gentle touch sending sparks of sensation through my over-sensitized skin.

“You took your punishment well, ma chère ,” he praised, his voice low and approving. “Now, let’s see how wet it made you.”

Before I could process his words, I felt his fingers slide between my thighs, probing my most intimate places. I gasped, instinctively trying to close my legs. But Lucas’ other hand gripped my hip firmly, holding me in place.

“Ah ah,” he chided. “No hiding from me. Your body belongs to me now, remember?”

His fingers explored further, and I felt my face flame with embarrassment as he encountered the abundant evidence of my arousal. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“My, my,” he purred. “Such a naughty girl, getting so wet from your punishment.” His thumb found my clit, circling it slowly. “Tell me, Alice. Did you enjoy being disciplined?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, torn between shame and the growing pleasure as Lucas’ skilled fingers worked their magic. “I… I don’t know,” I stammered.

Lucas’ fingers stilled, and I felt him lean over me, his breath hot against my ear. “Well, perhaps you’ll know more in a few moments,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Your punishment isn’t over yet.”

A chill ran down my spine at his words. “What… what do you mean?” I whimpered, my voice trembling.

“The whipping you just received was for your disobedience,” Lucas explained, his tone calm but unyielding. “But there’s a deeper lesson you must learn: your complete subservience to me, and my privilege to punish you simply to assert my ownership and dominance.”

His hand moved from between my legs to grip my hip firmly. “To truly drive this lesson home, I’m going to whip your cunt.”

Terror gripped me at his words. “No!” I cried out, panic flooding my system. “Please, you can’t!”

I tried to push myself up from the bed, desperate to escape this new, unthinkable punishment. But Lucas’ hand on my hip tightened, holding me in place with ease.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, his voice sharp with authority.

I struggled against his grip, my legs flailing as I attempted to find purchase on the floor. “Let me go!” I sobbed, twisting my body in a desperate bid for freedom.

Lucas’ other hand came down hard on my already tender bottom, the sharp smack echoing in the room. I yelped in pain and protest.

Lucas’ powerful arms encircled me, effortlessly lifting me off the bed. In one fluid motion, he flipped me onto my back, the soft duvet cool against my punished skin. Before I could react, his large hands gripped my knees, pressing them back toward my chest.

“No, please,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse from crying. But Lucas’ expression was implacable, his blue eyes dark with determination.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded. When I hesitated, he applied more pressure, forcing my thighs apart. “Wider.”

Cool air caressed my most sensitive places as I was exposed fully to Lucas’ gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the intensity of his stare or the shame burning through me.

The first stroke of the martinet across my pussy tore a scream from my throat. White-hot pain bloomed between my legs, radiating outward in waves. Lucas paused, letting me process the sensation before striking again.

Each lash of the cruel implement sent shockwaves through my body. I writhed on the bed, tears streaming down my face as I begged Lucas to stop. But he was relentless, raining down stroke after stroke on my tender flesh, his left arm pressing my knees almost to my chest and his right rising and falling over and over.

I lost count of how many times the martinet connected. All I knew was the searing pain and the growing heat building low in my belly. Then, suddenly, the whipping stopped.

Lucas dropped the martinet, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. His large hands moved to caress my thighs, gently spreading them wider. I whimpered as his fingers ghosted over my tender flesh, still burning from the cruel lashes of the martinet.

“Shh,” Lucas murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let me see what a pretty little cunt you have, ma chère .”

His thumbs parted my outer lips, exposing my secret lips and the entrance to my aching sheath to his hungry gaze. I felt utterly vulnerable, spread open before him like this. A soft gasp escaped me as his fingertips traced along my sensitive folds.

“Oh, Alice,” he breathed, his tone filled with wonder and lust. “Your pussy is absolutely exquisite. So pink and delicate, like a perfect little flower.”

His fingers explored further, dipping into my wetness. I couldn’t hold back a moan as he circled my entrance teasingly.

“And so wet for me,” Lucas continued, his voice dropping to a growl. “Such a naughty girl, getting so aroused from your punishment.”

He leaned down, his breath hot against my inner thigh. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little cunt,” he murmured. “To feel these tight walls gripping my cock as I claim what’s mine.”

His thumb found my clit, circling it slowly. Pleasure sparked through me, warring with the remnants of my modesty. I squirmed beneath his touch, torn between shame and desperate need.

“Such a responsive little cunt,” Lucas pronounced approvingly. “But remember, ma chère —you may not come without my permission. And I’m not ready to grant it just yet.”

He increased the pressure on my clit, rubbing tight circles that had me gasping and arching off the bed. Just as I felt the tension coiling tighter in my core, Lucas eased off, denying me release.

“Please,” I whimpered, beyond caring how needy I sounded.

Lucas chuckled darkly. “Patience, Alice. I want to savor every moment of this.”

His fingers traced along my slick folds, spreading my wetness. “Your pussy is so smooth,” he marveled. “Like silk. I can’t wait to dress it in pretty lace and satin. Perhaps a delicate pink thong, or sheer white panties that become translucent when you’re aroused.”

The image he painted with his words only heightened my arousal and brought even more heat to my face. I moaned softly as Lucas’ thumb returned to my clit, circling it with maddening slowness.

“I’m going to buy you the finest lingerie,” he continued. “Corsets that nip in your waist and push up your sweet little breasts. Stockings and garter belts to present your cunt and your bottom properly.”

I gazed at him between my spread legs, and watched him look at me, down there. My tummy flipped at the delight in his eyes, the pleasure he so evidently took in visually possessing me. He bent his head, and I realized what he would do next.

“Oh…” I protested, mortification making my body tense, my back arch. “Oh… no… please…” No one had ever done that… had…

He kissed me, licked me. Every muscle responded, my hips bucking, trying to press my pussy… my cunt… his cunt against Lucas’ face. My orgasm had almost burst inside me at the merest touch of his tongue.

But Lucas raised his head and looked into my eyes, his blue gaze full of command that made my hot, needy sheath clench with longing for his mouth’s return.

“You taste just like you should, Alice,” Lucas said. “Innocent and naughty at the very same time.”