THE SOLDIER

I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Master?” I chose this moment strategically. He’s always more generous after he comes or after he’s broken me.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He looks at me with those cool, grey eyes. I know I pleased him because he just got off, but it doesn’t show in his face.

When he doesn’t answer, I rush forward, “Can I be over your knee for my punishment?” I saw he’d laid out pillows in the center of the bed, and I know exactly how he intends to use them, but I would so much rather have the intimacy of being over his lap-being close to him, especially because this is real punishment. At least I think it is. It’s so hard to tell if anything’s real with Pavel.

My emotions are real-that’s what matters. I’m already close to breaking, and he hasn’t even started. I crave connection.

“Is that what you need?” He brushes his thumb across my lower lip, and my body responds like he’s a musician bowing my strings.

“Please, Master.”

“Da. Come here.” He tucks his cock away and stands, lifting me by my wrists to stand. He walks to his suitcase and pulls out a small pocket paddle-the kind that’s round like a small ping pong paddle, just big enough to strike one buttcheek. He hasn’t used it on me before, and a shiver of mingled excitement and fear runs up my spine.

He walks the edge of the bed and sits, tugging me over one knee, my torso resting on the bed. “Take a pillow, blossom.”

I reach for one of the pillows piled in the center of the bed and hug it under my chest, resting my cheek on it.

He spanks me with his hand. The first few slaps are hard-hard enough to take my breath away. He delivers five and then stops, reaching for something. I brace myself for whatever he has planned. I relax when I sense something hard and rounded at the entrance of my sex. He pushes in a small bullet vibrator and turns it onto low.

I’m already dripping with desire, and the vibrator has the effect of waking up my entire pelvic region. My next exhale has a moan to it. Pavel doesn’t stop with filling my pussy. He spreads my cheeks and drops a dollop of lube on my anus. I gasp, tightening against the surprise sensation.

Pavel rolls the rounded end of a stainless steel buttplug against my asshole then pushes in.

I squeak at the pressure.

“Take it,” he growls.

I work hard to relax, forcing out a slow exhale and gradually releasing the tension in my sphincter muscles. As soon as they go slack, he pushes in. It’s a crazy mixture of pleasure and pain-the ring of muscles stretching open burns, but the sensation is counteracted by the buzzing against my G-spot and the internal fullness as the plug enters my body and finally seats.

I whimper, feeling fully surrendered now, fully his. The position is humiliating but hot. There’s something I adore about my entire body being owned and controlled by my demanding lover.

“Please,” I mewl, even though I don’t know what I’m begging for.

Certainly not for him to stop. I know he won’t. And not for more, either. The sensations are already too much-I’m on overload.

But he does give me more. He starts spanking me again with both holes full. Every spank jiggles the plug inside my ass, sending fresh bursts of sensation through me while the vibrator takes me right to the edge.

“Master, please,” I plead. Now I understand what I was begging for. “I need to come.”

Already.

I need to come desperately. And I’m almost certain he will refuse.

“No.” The syllable is harsh-a rebuke for even asking.

His spanks fall fast and hard, lighting up my ass and making my back muscles tense.

“Please, Master.” I’m not really asking anymore. I know the answer is no. I’m just losing my sanity. Begging is all I’m capable of. And it’s what he wants to hear.

I hug the pillow tight to keep from covering my butt with my hands because the burn grows in intensity with every slap he delivers. The harder he spanks, the harder I have to come. I start to buck and wriggle over his lap. “Please, Master… please, Master.” I’m so close.

He stops rather abruptly. I expect him to give me a break, maybe rub my ass while I pant and catch my breath, but instead, he pulls me up to stand in front of him, between his knees.

I’m hot and discombobulated. My hair falls across my face, and I’m close to tears. I hold my ass. Pavel tugs and rolls my nipples and puts tiny alligator clamps on one of them. I nearly come the moment he closes it. I have to shift and press my thighs together to stop. I’m more prepared for the second one.

“Master,” I whimper.

Those grey eyes meet mine, and I catch the flash of approval before he hides it. He likes me this way-pleading and begging and at his mercy. Desperate to come.

He reaches around to cup my ass, pushing my hands away. He kneads it, pulling me closer, then he starts to play with the buttplug, pumping it slowly.

“Oh!” I can’t control the quivers that explode in my belly. He pumps again, short fast pumps. I press my fingers over my clit as I throw back my head and come, unable to stop myself.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I gasp as soon as I can catch my breath. My hands fall onto his shoulders because my legs won’t hold me up.

A tear streaks down my face although I’m not even sure what it’s for.