Mistress of the Damned

“You are so wet,” Logan said, firmer that time. “All of this was supposed to be mine. Now you taunt me with it.”

The soft pressure of his hand vanished, and I moaned in need, bucking in a plea for him to return. Instead, he leaned over me, both hands on my back as he laid against me, whispering in my ear.

“You’re naughty Elney. You’re wet, and you’re thinking of my cock inside of you,” It twitched against me and I gasped with a sound that was more like a moan. “You made me think of my cock inside you too. I wanted that. You stole that from me. I would punish you, but your pussy is for someone else, now. Your womb is for someone else’s seed. Don’t worry, I’ll punish you later. And then I’ll make you scream.”

The pressure on my back didn’t leave as he held me down, one knee lifting so as to spread me open toward him, ass and pussy in the air. With one firm smack, he hit that same hungry flesh. The switch from aroused need to pain was so abrupt that I shrieked.

Another slap, this one harder, and I howled. Pain spread over my legs, it burned on the wet lips between my thighs, it screamed over my abdomen and was immediately followed by a damp lust that needed to be fulfilled.

My mind was on fire. My skin was alive. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I didn’t want it to stop. I tried to move against Logan again, begging for more, but he held me tighter against his legs.

“You were supposed to be mine,” Logan spoke in a whisper, his hand pulling from the inflamed skin to a tiny spot on my vagina that sent me writhing. One touch was a firestorm and I moaned, bucking into him. The tip of his finger moving right to my opening.

“Stop, Logan,” he said to himself as he stood, sending me to the ground in a heap as he bolted to the door and slammed it behind him, leaving me shaking with need. Staring at the door wondering what the hell had happened.