Just as she was about to leave, Cass watched him get on his knees and place his hands on his lap, one over the other.
"Anything you tell me to, Cassandra." He followed her every movement, his eyes jumping around her face, looking for any sign of wha...
CW: sadism, masochism, punishment, torture, bondage, impact play (incl. a belt), edging.
This is part 2 of a double update, make sure you didn't miss chapter 13.
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
"Kneel."
The stern command echoed around them. Ent began apologizing again.
"I don't care how sorry you are," she dismissed. "Kneel."
He nodded in shame before dropping his weight to the floor carelessly, one knee before the other. He missed the pile.
"Move forward." He did, shuffling in tiny steps, restricted by his bound ankles.
"Shit," he hissed under his breath as he felt the sharp pieces dig into his sensitive skin for the first time. In his hasty movements, he'd spread the pile around more, now having husks underneath his shins as well.
If it wasn't the consequences of his own actions.
Cass watched as he squirmed while attempting to get comfortable in the new position he'd found himself in.
He had to be in so much pain. The raised stripes painting his skin in shades of pink and red attested to that point. His body was trembling with the aftermath of bracing for impact and trying to stave off forbidden orgasms for so long.
And yet, he hadn't complained. He took everything she gave him as instructed and moaned in ecstasy with each stroke.
Even when he apologized, he did so because he'd disobeyed his Domme, disrespecting her in the process. Even though the push was intentional on her part. He didn't apologize because he wanted to avoid consequences.
He was hers to control and he knew it.
With a content smile on her face, Cass used his shoulder for support as she stood up before walking around him.
The bottoms of his feet caught her attention immediately. They were bright red, with tiny prickly indents all over.
Kneeling was a punishment and it would hurt a lot worse. It would force him to dissociate even more to handle the pain. But it was a shame these tortured red soles would get a break.
After returning to him with her favorite riding crop in hand, she dragged it along his calf to show him what to expect. As still as a statue on his knees, all the reaction that left him was a desperate sigh.
"Remind me," she teased, removing the slapper of the crop from the sole of his foot. "What's your purpose?"
"To please you," he tried, earning himself a strike to the ball of his left foot.
She raised the crop again.
"To obey you," he moaned as the crop landed on his other foot.
