A Demon's Devotion Ch. 03

"Good girl." Levi smiled, and Beatrice yelped as the edge of an orgasm tickled her insides. "You may play with yourself, if you wish. But you must ask permission before you come. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes!" Beatrice nodded rapidly, her shaking hands already fumbling to unbutton her jeans.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes Ma--aaa--hhhha!," the rest of the word was lost as her fingers found the soaking surface of her panties, the slightest pressure sending ripples of delight through her.

"Good enough," Levi chuckled. "Though I would advise against further exclamations," he added, rolling the windows down with an evil grin.

Beatrice groaned. Even as her head swam in sticky fog, she recognized the deviousness of her Master's design. As if reducing her to this state wasn't enough, now he was forcing her to fight her own desires. Yet somehow, the thought of being exposed, of some undignified sound or pornographic display leaking into the outside world, of a classmate catching a glimpse of her rubbing herself stupid in Levi Ehrlich's truck...it didn't lessen her arousal at all. In fact, it only...it only...

Suddenly, they slowed, coming to a stop at a crowded red light. Though she dared not look, Beatrice could hear noises from the neighboring car, pop music and chatter floating freely between the driver's open window and hers. The voices sounded young, possibly belonging to other students. If they decided to look her direction, all it would take was a glance for Beatrice's shame to become public. Her breath hitched, her free hand flying to her cover her mouth as her fingers circled the sopping fabric between her legs. She tried to stop. Tried bite her fist and stifle the awful hunger possessing her. But no matter how her heart raced and her body trembled, she couldn't...stop...rubbing.

The light changed and the truck pulled away, leaving the terrifying encounter behind. Immediately, the moan Beatrice had been holding broke free. She didn't care who heard. The adrenaline and anxiety that'd just reached a boiling point came gushing out of her in mounting spasms of relief and joy. Her free hand snaked under her sweater and shirt, pawing at her tits, squishing and pinching the soft, sensitive flesh. She was close. The humiliation, the anticipation, the pleasure--it was all burning inside her, rising to a feverish pitch, ready to erupt in mind-blanking bliss.

Levi spoke. "You're on the edge right now, aren't you?"

"Nnn--yes, yes!" Beatrice managed to answer between broken breaths.

"You want to surrender don't you? You want to come for me like a good girl, isn't that right?"

"I...I...oh...god..."

"All you have to do is ask. Say: 'Please Master, let me come for you.'"

"P-please, Master. Let me...let me come f..."

Wait. For him?

Beatrice bit her tongue, her body going rigid as she forced the words back down. She couldn't do it. She refused. Even as her hands continued to stroke and squeeze, this singular thought remained rooted and unmoving. No matter how bad she wanted to, she wasn't going to come for him--not last night, and certainly not now. He could debase her in front of her classmates, seduce her into spreading her legs in his car, but on this last point she would not yield.

Because she could tell: he wanted it just as badly.

"What's wrong?" Levi asked, a whisper of uncertainty under his condescending tone. "Your reward is yours to claim. All you must do is ask for it."

"N-not gonna...happen..." Beatrice huffed. The urgency in her body was fading, her mind clearing enough to stop her fingers' devious dance. She realized that her marker had gone dormant at some point. When had that happened? When had Levi lifted his influence and allowed her own instincts to take over? The fact that she couldn't tell caused her to shiver.

"I see," Levi said, all traces of bemusement banished. "So it's as I feared."

Beatrice remained still, not even attempting to re-button her pants. "Wh-what do you mean?"

He sighed. "I mean your progress today was little more than a front. You still intend to fight me, just as you did last night. Oh yes," he added when Beatrice's eyes widened, "I felt every part of that ridiculous struggle. All you had to do was allow yourself release, and both of our hungers would've been sated. Instead, you chose to spit in the face of our mutual satisfaction. Just as you are now."

"W-well excuse me for not going down without a fight," Beatrice protested. "What did you expect? That I would actually enjoy being your slave?"

"No." He brought the truck to a stop. "I'd hoped for more, but my dismal expectations have, unfortunately, been met. Which is why I've brought you here."

"Huh?" she turned, and realized they were parked in front of Levi's house. He cut the engine, and a deathly silence slithered into the cab. Beatrice held her breath, sensing his power circling her mind, like a predator prowling in the grass.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" she asked.

"By now, you've had plenty of experience with the bridle and carrot." Levi's eyes narrowed. "It's time you met the crop as well."

___________________________________________________

Earlier, Beatrice had said only an idiot would run.

But now she was seriously considering the option.

She stood frozen in the center of Levi's room, her mind racing on a treadmill of half-formed plans and fears. Her host circled behind her, locking the door before catching her over-the-shoulder glance. She quickly faced forward, her heartrate kicking up another notch. Even if he hadn't told her in the truck, the wicked anticipation in his eyes would've made her fate all too clear.

Beatrice was about to punished.

Levi continued to orbit around his servant, the nearby desk lamp throwing his shadow across the room. Beatrice curled her hands into fists, trying to prepare for whatever his next move would be. If he seized her body, could she fight his grasp? If he stroked her mark, could she resist its pleasure? Was it even worth asking? After all, he'd bested her efforts so far, with seemingly little effort. Then again, if he was going to such lengths to "train" her, her defiance must've been threatening to some degree. Could it be his hold on her was much more fragile than it seemed? Was it possible she could wear him down?

And was it worth the risk to find out?

She stiffened as Levi stopped in front of her, his stern gaze roaming her body. "Strip," he commanded.

Beatrice hesitated. "Wh-why? Are you gonna--" She flinched as his power teased her bridle, her voice lost in a sharp, surprised breath.

"A good servant does not question her punishment," Levi growled, "She accepts it. Lest her foolishness incur further displeasure."

Beatrice shut her mouth tight, swallowing a torrent of spiteful retorts. The subtle pressure of Levi's influence vanished, though his threatening expression didn't ease. Looking away, Beatrice moved her hands to the hem of her sweater, her pulse thundering as she lifted the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her tank-top was the next to go, followed by her jeans, each button a fresh challenge for her trembling fingers. She could sense his excitement as she pulled her naked legs free, the motion causing her breasts to jiggle. To her dismay, she realized her nipples were already poking through her bra as she unclasped it, her skin burning as she let the flimsy cups fall away. At last, her thumbs hooked into the drawstring of her panties, a shiver wriggling her hips as she peeled the sopping underwear from her sticky, sensitive pussy.

By the time she'd finished, Levi's eyes glowed with dark desire, heat practically radiating from his body as he drew closer. Beatrice shrunk back automatically, her arms shifting to cover her flushed tits and dripping sex. But then her mark throbbed, and her hot breath hitched, an invisible hand caressing the tension from her muscles.

"Good girl," Levi murmured, gently parting Beatrice's limbs, allowing him full access to her naked, helpless body. She had the vague impulse to pull away, but the allure of his touch was too much. He smoothed his fingers up her thighs and hips, tracing the contours of her torso with delicate affection, his thumbs pausing to circle and tease her stiff pink nipples. Her back arched, a tiny whine escaping as she pressed her soft, needy flesh into his hands. But the moment she did, he moved away, stepping back as though suddenly losing interest.

"On all fours," he said, pointing to the bed. "Now."

Beatrice moved without thinking, getting halfway onto the mattress before realizing what she was doing. She slowed, wondering if she should try and reverse course, only to feel Levi's hand grasp her ass. Even with her mark dormant, the electricity of his touch sent disorienting sparks through her brain, shorting her thoughts of resistance. There was no struggle as he guided her into position, her head lowered towards the wall and her rear raised towards the rest of the room, naked and vulnerable to...whatever he had in mind.

His fingers slipped away, and he let out a small hum of satisfaction. "Since this is your first and we're pressed for time, I'm going to keep it simple. Though that doesn't mean it will be easy."

Beatrice blinked, her mind reorienting in time to prepare for another burst of his power when...

Smack.

She yelped, her ass stinging from the open-palmed slap. She shifted away, surprised, only for Levi's hand to grasp her hair, yanking her back into place as she groaned.

"Your sentence is ten strikes," Levi explained. "And you will take them as a servant should: silently, without complaint."

"Seriously?" Beatrice exclaimed. "You're gonna spank me? That's what you--"

Smack. Her objection broke into a sputtering curse.

"If you make even the slightest sound," Levi warned her, "I'll have to start over."

"What? Why? Just because I--"

Smack.

"One," Levi uttered.

"Fuck you! I'll never--"

Smack.

"One."

"Shit! That h--"

Smack.

"One."

"Ah! Can you just--"

Smack.

"One."

Beatrice grit her teeth, balling the sheets in her fists. So far, every one of Levi's hits had been in the exact same spot, each new blow landing right when the pain from the previous had subsided. His technique was so precise, so calculated, she might've found it impressive if it didn't feel so merciless.

At least she'd managed to stay quiet this time. Indeed, she felt a glimmer as satisfaction as her tormentor paused, apparently expecting further outbursts, only to be thwarted by her silence.

Smack.

"Two."

Beatrice's nostrils flared as she exhaled, but again, her lips stayed sealed. She could do this. She was a badass bitch. Just like Lucy said. It would take more than a scrawny nerd's spanking to--

SMACK.

"Ah!" she cried, almost losing her balance. He'd targeted her other cheek this time, and had somehow put even more force behind the strike.

"One," he stated flatly.

"FUCK!"

Smack.

Beatrice sucked in a shaking breath, holding it like a cliff's edge.

"One."

Smack.

She exhaled, willing herself to ride the pain as it crested and waned.

"Two."

Smack.

"Three."

SMACK.

Beatrice's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Once again, he'd switched up his aim. But this time, she'd been ready. Even as her ass throbbed, she kept her focus on the next hit, fortifying her determination.

Smack.

"Four."

SMACK.

"Five."

Halfway there. She bowed her head, letting out another strained breath. Peering back through her arms and legs, she could see Levi flexing his hand. A secret smirk danced on her lips. Maybe he was starting to tire. Maybe he was running out of tricks. Maybe they wouldn't even make it to ten before--

His hand rested on the small of her back. Beatrice tensed reflexively, only to shiver as he smoothed his fingers down her ass, kneading the warm, tender areas he'd beaten only moments ago. Her thighs trembled as his touch wandered perilously close to her pussy, teasing her as he massaged the tightness from her muscles. Her eyes closed, her mouth sliding open as relief suffused her. It felt so good, so comforting, that it nearly coaxed a moan from her lips.

Then Levi's hand whipped back, and Beatrice's stomach clenched as she sensed the incoming strike. Before she could stop herself, she squeaked in terror.

And in the silence that followed, his smirk was almost audible.

Beatrice sunk onto her elbows, groaning under the weight of her mistake.

Smack.

"One."

"That's not fair..." Beatrice whimpered.

SMACK.

Levi sighed. "One."

"I'm sorry, okay? I promise I'll--"

Smack.

"One."

Beatrice's lips trembled. Yet she remained silent. When the next two strikes came, her stillness didn't waver. When Levi took another break to massage the numbness away, she remained poised and alert, not allowing herself the luxury of relief. And when a barrage of sharp, rapid slaps shattered the quiet, Beatrice's cry of surprise was followed not by further protests, but merely by a wordless acceptance that the count would restart.

So the ordeal continued. With every fresh count, Beatrice's world narrowed even further, her focus shrinking until she could barely think between each hit. Eventually, she could get up to seven counts. Then eight. Then nine. When he struck her with both hands on the tenth, the pathetic grunt she made barely registered in her ears. Dimly, she realized the process would restart.

Yet for some reason, she didn't feel upset.

She felt...fuzzy and...floaty.

And by the time she'd fully processed this, the count was already up to seven again.

Smack.

"Eight."

Huh. That'd hardly hurt at all. In fact, it'd been kinda...disappointing?

SMACK.

"Nine."

Oh. That was a good one.

Wait, what did she mean by that? And why...was her mark...suddenly tingling?

Smack.

Ecstasy blossomed between Beatrice's legs, a tempest of pain and pleasure spiraling from the demon's crest. She squealed in surprise, her voice breaking as her tangled senses ignited.

"One."

Smack.

Beatrice made a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry. Levi wasn't just hitting her anymore: he was trying to get her off. And the worst part was...the worst part was...

She wanted him to.

SMACK.

"One."

Beatrice panted, a strand of drool dripping from her lips. She felt giddy. She felt ruined. She felt like her body was melting. She felt her brain was breaking. She felt like he was striking the deepest fibers of her being, playing chords of euphoric suffering she could barely contain. She felt like a tidal wave was building inside her, a massive swell of bliss that could break free at any moment.

She realized they were on the ninth count. Just as she realized she was going to come.

Her master's hand pulled back.

Beatrice welcomed it.

She craved it.

She gasped as the strike landed. And screamed as the pleasure claimed her.

She couldn't think. Couldn't speak. Couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't keep herself up. Couldn't lift her head from the mattress. Couldn't stop the spit pooling on the sheets.

Couldn't tell what count they were on now.

Couldn't tell if this was the second orgasm, or the third, or the fourth.

Couldn't bring herself to care.

And when the strikes and convulsions finally subsided...when dreamy echoes were all that danced in her head...when her Master stroked her hair and told her how good she'd been...

...She couldn't help but smile.