Silver Fox Pt. 02

"Good girl." She jarred with the next blows, while I held her, and it made me feel all the hotter that it seemed to genuinely help her for me to hold her. Her desperate obedience turned more subservient while she whimpered against my neck instead of giving her other shrieks. I kissed her hair again and watched over her shoulder while I left my marks. The count was something I felt in my blood, something I wasn't even actively tallying, but I had it. 20 turned to 25... then 30... then 35. I spoke in the softest voice, a voice that would have scared me if I wasn't so caught up in the moment with her. There wasn't just affection in my voice. It had grown into something more than even fondness, turned into something that was on the verge of love for her. "You mark so prettily. And I'm proud of you." She moaned into my shoulder, while my shirt was turning wet with her tears. On the ground between her legs, more cum dripped and I burned. "Look at how still you're being, too, and without me giving your pussy any attention at all this time." Her moan was louder with my bringing that to her attention.

I felt welded to her, with how connected this made me feel. Pain had always been more intimate for me somehow. A person showed so much when they hurt and it felt like a bonding thing for me that she would show me that, that she would give me her tears and soft whimpers, that she would be vulnerable like with me. It took so much trust and I adored her for having that with me. I finally stopped at 50. 25 for each side of her ass, nice and evenly spaced.

She stared at me with this lost look when I pulled away, as if unsure of why I would do that, as if lost in the world of torment I'd been giving her, unable to come back without guidance. I cupped her cheek. "Now that's a gorgeous look in your eyes."

"Thank y-you, Sir. Please paddle me more."

I laughed, feeling warm, and kissed her forehead. "But wouldn't you like to try the cane?"

She closed her eyes in a slow blink, as if working to focus, her head resting against my palm. "I-I want whatever you want, please, Sir. I want to please you."

Jesus fuck. I paced around her and studied her ass, more fully enjoying the marks I'd left. "You already do." I spanked her lightly so that she squeaked when my palm hurt her. "So fucking much. I think you'll like these marks, by the way. They're nice and raw, beautiful. They're a deep red, too, with some of the harder parts wounded. Not in a bad way, but just a little." I paused to toy with the plug and was rewarded with her loud, sexual moan of desire when I withdrew it in a much more gentle fuck than before. "Oh, we like anal, it seems. Once I'm done with the cane, maybe you'd like to cum from this, so it hurts a little more."

That's when she fucked up any hope of me staying away from her. It had already felt like a wishful, delicate thought anyway, but she shattered whatever illusion was left with that scene and with that moment.

"I'll cum if you make me, Sir, but I'd like it if you didn't do that. I... I want to know what it's like for you, why you stay in the space and don't get off. I want to try."

————

Essie

He paced around me, picking up the paddle again, and his eyes were fierce when he tapped my cheek gently with the cruel implement. My ass felt marred from that toy, but somehow, now that I'd had a week to realize that I wasn't capable of walking away from him, I was deep beneath those waters that he'd showed me little parts of before. I was drowning in them this time, though, so far that I didn't have the strength to break through the surface without his help. It would have been scary if I could think straight or if I didn't already have such feelings for him.

Because I trusted him. I thought I trusted him more than I'd ever trusted anyone not my family. "Hold my gaze, Essie. Don't look away. You mean that? Your cunt is dripping cum onto the floor and I haven't even touched it. I know it has to be painful, how horny you are." I moaned when his words were deliberately more vulgar. There was a touch of violence in how feral his voice sounded and the humiliation made me warm with the thought that I must have pleased my Sir if he was being so degrading.

"Yes, Sir. You said it was better to not release it when you wanted to want to hurt." My words sounded so distant, with my thoughts so far away. "I thought about it over last week." And I had. I'd masturbated throughout the nights in frenzy to the thought of burning like he burned. "I want to want to be hurt more."

His eyes were fiery, in a way that would have scared me if I didn't trust him so much. As it was, he used his free hand to grasp my hair in a painful grip and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that felt like it should bruise. I moaned into his mouth, with a hunger I'd never felt before, and it was a moment that felt like it sealed me to him. I had resigned myself to going to him as much and as hard as he would have me, in a happy resignation.

It felt like I was definitely never getting away after that kiss. I moaned louder when he fed me his tongue, when he fucked it between my lips, his hand harsh in my hair. He growled in a breath when he pulled away. "I can't show you the cane tonight."

I whimpered. "Please, Sir. Please hurt me more." I didn't want this to stop. I wanted to burn in the way that Lily described for some of the masochists she'd known, left in the desire of being used for my Sir, in suffering his cruel affection.

"I'll paddle you more, but none of the cane."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

He was silent when he removed the clover clamps, while I considered that I had gotten rather attached to his form of dirty talk, but I liked this black intensity of his, too. I enjoyed it all the more when he held me tight to start again with the large oak paddle and he was brutal with his pleasure.

Instead of torturing me over what he'd already left on my ass, he lowered his strikes onto the backs of my thighs with a force that made me twist in his embrace, but he only held on even tighter. The sound of it was terrifying, the paddle making a slapping sound against my flesh. "Oh, please!"

"Bite me," he whispered against me. "When it hurts that much this time, bite my shoulder."

I trembled, waiting for the pain to fall, trying to brace when he was playing so hard, and it was so easy to obey his command. Before the pain, it would have made me rebel the idea, the thought of hurting him, but when it fell, I sank my teeth into his shoulder obediently, crying out as best I could with the action. He moaned against my forehead and I pulled away to answer with a moan of my own, then bit him again when he hurt me more.

He pet my hair while he did, too, in the most loving gesture. "I can't cane you tonight," he whispered between paddle strikes and my screams against his shoulder. Tears fell from my eyes. "Because I'd hurt you. I'm sorry, baby, but I'll make it up to you." Jesus, it already felt like he was making it up to me. He was swinging that massive paddle of his so damned hard that it was delicious hell, but the way he pet me so adoringly made it tolerable. He held me so close, so tight, like he never wanted to let go. I had to be close to making him bleed with my teeth on his shoulder, but he didn't so much as make a sound of protest to it, nothing except his ragged breathing when I pulled away and bit him again sometimes.

I don't know how long he paddled my thighs, only knew that it was enough to make my world fade into a place where time didn't fucking matter. The only thing that mattered was his sweetest words in my ear, his cooing that I was such a good girl, that he was so pleased and proud of me, and I knew it was true when he hurt me so hard, knew he was more pleased than ever.

It was an age later when he finally pulled away, his hand a gentle pat on my head to silently get me to let go of my bite on his shoulder. My world felt dazed, as if I was seeing everything through a foggy window pane, and I couldn't focus. I rested my head against one arm and I didn't even want to focus on anything. I floated in the knowledge that I had asked him to keep us both like this and vaguely wondered what would happen now, if this would just be how it ended. Maybe he'd take me to the wall again and hold me close while I quietly burned in this wicked world of his, this headspace he had crafted with such loving torment.

I moaned when he pulled the butt plug from my ass, feeling a strange sensation of brief pain and then emptiness. And it was a strange kind of pain, one that made me crave. It had felt raw when he fucked the plug inside of me, a sensation that had sent me falling into this dark place. There was a tearing sound behind me, but I was too out of it to care much what it was, in a good way.

My eyes snapped wide when he pressed against me from behind, when I felt his cock pressed to my asshole instead. "No! You don't like to."

"Hush. I do right now, like this, with you." That last word was a soft purr in my ear, while he covered me with his body, using one hand to position his cock against me. I cried out a frantic sound when he pressed, that raw stretch so much worse when it was him, and he proved to be not small.

"Oh, God, please! Please!"

There was so much pain to it. There was this burning stretch when he forced himself, along with the sting of the torturous marks on my ass and thighs. It felt like I should be bleeding against his suit pants when the soft fabric felt so raw against my ass. He forced deeper, harder, his breath excited in my ear. "How good you feel when you struggle, when your hole squeezes with how I hurt you. So tight, baby, but you need this asshole worked open anyway. You need it spread and gaped, later, so that it hurts all the more. I think we'll make it a habit, filling you up with toys, so that eventually you'll forget what it feels like to have your ass empty while I hurt you."

"Oh my, God!" His words shot me so high into arousal that it was pain. Nothing touched my pussy, nothing filled it at all, but it ached in torment and if he kept talking like that, I had a feeling it wouldn't matter that it was neglected.

"Good girl." His voice was so proud, with a sense of possession in it. "How sweet you are." I pant when he could finally go no farther, but he didn't give me enough of a break to really process that fact before he went to work.

He was as brutal with his fucking as he'd been with the paddle that last little bit. His hands covered both of mine on the top bar of the rack and he fucked in a raw pace, his breath releasing in low grunts and growls behind me, animal sounds that only fueled my own feral emotions. "Oh, it's so fucking g-ood! Oh, no!" That last was a wounded cry when he cinched my nipples, with how sore they were. Pain ruled my world, but he ruled pain and I liked it that way. "It hurts... It's so... good, please!"

His voice was intense with pent up violence in my ear. "This little asshole isn't fighting me so much now that it's not so virginal anymore." He sounded like a fucking demon behind me and that was it, the words and that voice. That was what did me in.

I squealed a broken, endless sound and he let go of the bar to grasp my hair and my throat in a control grip when he felt me orgasm, when I must have tightened in so much ecstasy. The world went white and I couldn't think straight to even panic when I couldn't breathe as his hand tightened and cut off my shriek. He made his own wild sound behind me, one I was only aware of because of how hot it was and how it went with him banging out his orgasm inside of me.

He was silent when he replaced his hands over my own on the bar and he kept his cock inside of me, only pulling away when he started to go soft, but he kept me still for a long while. He only moved once after getting rid of the condom and that was to turn my face to the side so he could kiss me over my shoulder.

And the kiss turned longer... and longer. His lips were gentle against mine this time and he nipped me every now and again, feeding me his tongue as well, making soft little content noises into my mouth while I did the same.

"Do you want to wear my collar?" He finally asked quietly.

"Yes, please, Sir."

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, please, Sir."

He reached for the cuffs, and I was glad for that when it felt like my legs were going to collapse soon. "Let's cuddle and talk about it."

I hesitated, then grinned. "Yes, please, Sir."

It worked. He laughed behind me, catching me when I staggered against him. And he might have been an odd knight to my rescue, but, well... It was a little bit too easy to romanticize him when he'd started to equate every instance of pain he gave with romance.

————

He had spoken with me quietly beside the wall that night, holding me in his lap, and we hadn't talked about what had happened between us, what it meant. No, we hadn't talked about things like his fucking for the first time in ages, hadn't talked about what that might mean for him. It was a line we didn't cross yet. Of course, I had curiosities about it, like why he didn't like to anyway. And then there was the fact that he still hadn't let me experience it from my part, hadn't left me to burn in the same way that he liked to burn.

Now, that I did bring up. I quietly told him that I'd meant it, that I wanted to know what it was like, and his hands had tightened around me, where he'd been so gently stroking me. "It wasn't something I could do without having talked about it with you. But okay. Okay, we can do it after we talk about it. I'll... I'll have to think of how to do it. I won't edge you. Er. Well, I want to edge you, but that serves a purpose and it requires you to eventually get off, so I should say that I'm saving it."

I'd shivered in his arms, looking up to meet his eyes, then blushed when he was studying me speculatively.

The end result was for a date. Like a date date. Like, he was taking me to a fucking movie. Admittedly, it was a movie I really wanted to see and it was the late showing after I got off work during the week, on the one day he had off.

But I was trying to reconcile the guy next door taking me on a date that was so... normal, after what I'd learned about him. I was trying to piece together the man who held me with such intense pain with someone taking me out.

I had to work up the nerve to knock on his door, while he only smiled casually down at me when he answered, so at ease while I was a bundle of terror. The anxiety only intensified, too, when he was dressed down in designer jeans, for once, and a silky polo, mostly because he looked unfairly gorgeous even when he wasn't dressing up, while I was in a casual, cute dress and did not feel like I did him justice. "Don't you look gorgeous? Come here, baby."

I laughed when he let me into his apartment, staring around at the most single guy's apartment I'd ever seen in my life. I had seven brothers, but Jackson passed all of their single days by a long shot.

"This is the most amazing place I've ever seen in my life!" He had gun racks against one wall and parts on a work table by it, where he apparently modified rifles and worked as a gunsmith in his free time, something I vaguely remember hearing Sam mention, since he'd known Jackson for longer than I did. An acoustic, bass, and electric guitar sat against one wall. The colors were neutral and mostly bare. There was a Jack Daniels poster on another wall, right beside a Velvet Underground poster. A black leather paddle sat on a coffee table and that huge wooden paddle sat on another one.

Jackson blushed. "I'm glad you think so. I don't exactly do a lot of dating, if I'm being honest, and it's all somewhat predictable if you know me."

"Sure, if people know you have good tastes, you mean. Velvet Underground. It's not as amazing as Grateful Dead, but still."

He laughed and tugged me into his arms. "Redheaded. Loves classic rock. Enjoys my kind of sex. Sweetheart, if you get any more perfect, I'm going to wonder when you'll kill me in my sleep."

I moaned when he pinched the side of my waist, his hand pulling up my dress so that he could do it, his other arm snaking around my waist to pull me against him. "That's... Oh, please." My voice was breathless for a moment when he intensified his pain. "That's strange. When I first met you, I wondered what the catch was."

He answered by pulling me over to his couch. "The catch is that I'm a confused sadist at the moment and saying hello to me before going on a date together involves things like this." I whimpered when he tugged me over his knee, then moaned when he pulled my little black dress up and spanked me, a hard slap to my ass that made me wet just from that start. "Hush. I have neighbors." I had to bite my lip when he spanked me harder and my nails sank into the denim of his jeans so that he chuckled. "Better. And I can't stay away." His slaps were hard but not as loud as I would have thought. He knew just how to shape his hand, just how to do it, with obvious experience, the kind that felt dangerous. "Not when you look just so beautiful." My moans escaped between my teeth, but I was trying so damn hard. He was so nice when I pleased him and he always told me how good and brave I was, rather than making me feel weak for being so submissive. And it made me want to please him all the more. "Not when I missed you so much." I sank into the pain, falling into the place where he ruled. "This is my catch. And I don't get nicer as I get more involved. If my past is anything to go off of, sweetheart, I get rougher and more painful with the more feelings I have."

Okay, I took it back. Dinner and a movie with him might have sounded so vanilla, but it wasn't. It was not vanilla at all with him. He was working me over so hard that it made me aware of how sore I would feel while sitting across from him for our date. "Yes, Sir," I whispered through clenched teeth.

He squeezed my ass, smoothing over the flesh he'd heated. "God, look at you. You're so." He spanked so hard I bit his jeans to keep quiet. "Fucking." I snorted. "Sweet."

"Thank you, Sir," I managed when he stopped and his laugh at it was breathless.

"Jesus, Essie. You're giving an older Dom a lot of bad ideas. Ideas involving your continual submission, for instance, as opposed to just when a scene is set."

I couldn't keep in the gasp when lust filled me at the thought, so much of it that it took me by surprise and shot my arousal into pain. "Oh, please." I whispered it. "Please." His cock was so hard beneath me, but it seemed clear that our previous playtime was an unusual event and that he didn't plan on doing it again anytime soon. I don't know why that thought turned me on so much, but it did. I think maybe it was one of those things that I was starting to associate with his control, with how deep he was in that lifestyle. Where I had once been so vanilla, it had taken him all of a couple of scenes to make an assfucking seem like something that I obviously needed as his submissive. Of course a good little girl for him would have her asshole stuffed and gaped.

"Good girl." I clawed the floor when he thrust his fingers inside of me, twisting his hand to hit some magical spot that made me open my mouth in a silent scream. He manipulated whatever that spot was almost painfully and it turned even harder to keep quiet. I wanted to shriek and beg from the onslaught he gave me. "God, you love the thought as much as I do." He worked his fingers in a massaging motion against that one spot and fuck me, I had masturbated a lot lately, but he was driving me wild in a way I hadn't found in myself yet. My vision blurred and I choked, then whimpered when he lifted me a little to cover my mouth with his free hand. And it was a good thing he did too.