My Trophy Boy

A Lotta Love And A Little Pain

H

What the fuck man?!
To say I'm embarrassed is an understatement. I was hopeless as this sadistic bastard had me tied up and shit.

"I fucking hate you bruv." I felt angry tears storm down my squashed cheeks. This mask was making my face feel tight like a face mask without the dryness.
"This is-"

His lips silenced my own with a kiss. It honestly took me by surprise. He's confusing the fuck out of me. One minute he's making me feel blissful with his honourable massages and next minute he's making me piss myself.

"Blond bitch." I gritted through my teeth as he cut off my boxers to clean me up.

"So I'm a bitch now am I?" He sounded offended with his sarcastic tone.

If I answer will he make me piss myself again?

"Kinky fucker." I cursed under my breath.

*SLAP*

"OWW!" I leaned forward from the impact of him slapping my ass. He had me in his hold in a standing position. I could not move a muscle since my legs and feet were bound.

"And you're not?" He tutted at me.

Rude!

I didn't know how to answer him, but I felt a soothing sensation when he began to rub and grope my ass cheek. He jiggled my bum and squeezed it.
His touch was becoming overwhelmingly addictive.

*SLAP*

"Ou- Fuck!" The fucking sting!

"Answer me." His voice was low, so low it sent shivers down my spine.

I suddenly felt nervous. Do I say yes to him or no? If I say yes I'm frightened of what he might do next- actually I don't care! He's already got me as a hostage so there's no escape. Oh no what if Paris sees us? If we're in the poole room then surely she could possibly hear us?

"Where are we?" I was cautious.

I sunk into the feeling of him rubbing my neck, my shoulders and down my back. I hated how much I liked the feeling. It's was conflicting, because I was trying to focus on other things.

*SLAP*

"Yaaa!" I yelped in pain. He wasn't even whipping me with that whip I heard earlier, just his hand and my ass felt as though it was on fire.

"Answer me." His tone sounded somewhat bored. That scares me, because I don't know what else was to come with this man.

"No, Mr Michaels, you are not a bitch." I tried to say sweetly.

I felt sour. I couldn't see shit and I was physically restricted. He was punishing me for what?

I felt him move away from me. It's like I can feel him even when he's not touching me. Like now for example, he's standing in front of me a couple of meters away. The furthest he's away from me the more my craving for his closeness starts to antagonise me.

"I don't appreciate lying, Holland." He's voice was serious. I felt him nearing me again, shit.
"I won't tolerate it neither." I felt bubbly and scared at the same time.

Suddenly, I began to feel sad. So sad that the corners of my mouth pointed downwards.

"Why are you punishing me?" I said in a mousy voice. I was scared to pop off and I was never scared to do that. Last time I was I was a child.