Tied to the bed

“Crawl,” the Inquisitor commanded, his voice like velvet steel, leaving no room for hesitation. Lace’s breath caught in her throat as she obeyed, lowering herself onto all fours. The cool stone floor pressed against her palms and knees, a stark contrast to the heat building inside her. His eyes bore into her, heavy and unyielding, as she inched forward, her movements slow and deliberate. Every shift of her body felt like a surrender, a silent acknowledgment of his dominance.

She reached the foot of the bed, her body trembling with anticipation. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he reached down to grasp her wrists. “Arms up,” he ordered, and she lifted them without protest. He began binding her to the bedposts, the silk rope firm but not cruel against her skin. She tested the restraints briefly, a reflex, but they held fast. She was trapped, exposed, and entirely at his mercy.

Once she was secured, he stepped back, his gaze raking over her bound form. His lips curved into a faint smile, one that sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through her. “And I intend to make sure you understand that.”

He moved to the side of the bed, his hand gliding along her thigh, the touch electric against her skin. She tensed, her breath quickening as his palm came to rest on the curve of her ass. “Relax,” he murmured, though his tone carried a warning. “This is going to hurt… but you’ll take it, won’t you?”

Lace swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The first strike came without warning, the sharp crack of his hand against her flesh making her gasp. Pain bloomed across her skin, hot and stinging, but beneath it was something else—a warmth that spread through her body, pooling low in her belly. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as he brought his hand down again, the impact harder this time.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice firm.

“One,” she managed, her voice trembling.

He struck her again, the sound sharp and unforgiving. “Two,” she gasped, her body jerking against the restraints. Her skin was already beginning to flush, the heat of his hand leaving a lingering burn.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone softening slightly. “But we’re just getting started.”

The next strike landed with more ****, and she cried out, her back arching as the pain radiated through her. “T-three,” she stammered, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her body was alight now, every nerve tingling with a mixture of pain and pleasure that she couldn’t untangle.

He paused, his hand resting lightly on the curve of her ass, the warmth of his touch soothing the sting. “Do you feel it?” he asked, his voice low and intimate. “The way your body responds to me? The way you need this?”

She nodded, unable to form words. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her skin tingling where he’d struck her. Yes, she thought, though she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. She needed this—needed him—more than she’d ever admit.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, Lace. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His words sent a shiver through her, her body trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. He straightened, his hand coming down on her again, the impact sharper this time. She cried out, her voice breaking as she **** out, “Four.”

He continued, his strikes deliberate and measured, each one pushing her further, testing her limits. She squirmed and gasped with each impact, her body growing hotter with every strike. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure, the two blending together until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

By the time he reached ten, her body was trembling, her skin flushed and sensitive. He paused, his hand resting lightly on her ass as he leaned over her. “How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s too much… but it’s not enough.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through her. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his hand caressing the heated skin of her thighs. “But we’re not done yet.”

She tensed, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers trailed lower, teasing her entrance. “Sir—please—” she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

“Do you want more?” he asked, his tone both a challenge and a promise.