Insatiable A Dark Romance

Daniel doesn’t listen to a word out of my mouth. He sits down, traps my thighs between his legs and pushes me over his left thigh so that my ass is on display over his leg. This is bad. There are bits of leaf and twig falling around me as he strips the branch bare, and then follows up by doing the same to my rear.

“Daniel!” I scream his name as the first lash lands against naked skin. He hasn’t said a word, and he doesn’t have to.

Over and over again, the branch whips across my ass, biting into my skin, leaving little patches of intense heat and lines of fire. I am being punished deliberately, painfully, and completely as I deserve to be.

It doesn’t take long for my tears to start to fall. I’ve never had much in the way of pain tolerance, and that hasn’t changed. It feels as though the switch has landed dozens of times, though maybe it’s closer to ten. I can’t count with that searing sting igniting every nerve in my body.

“Daniel! Stop!”

He stops. I know well enough it’s not because I told him to. It’s because he must be seeing what I am feeling. Any more of the switch and my bottom is going to become seriously marked and perhaps even bloody. And he won’t do that to me, even though I was just telling him I planned to leave him tied to a tree.

This is mercy. Not the kind of mercy I would expect outside this forest, but still mercy. All things are relative, and when you’re gasping for breath in between cuts of a wickedly supple switch, you’ll beg for respite—and worship anyone who gives it.

“You’re a brat,” he growls, his hand on the back of my head. He’s not gripping my hair, he’s palming my skull. I can feel his strength like a promise, my own physical vulnerabilities more pronounced than ever.

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. Sitting there, raiding the candy stores like a naughty little girl. You didn’t even try to get away. You didn’t even really look for anything to bargain with. You just sat there and smirked and taunted and riled me until I came for you, because you wanted your pussy fucked. Isn’t that right? You think this drug has made me mad, but you’re the one who has become addicted to what it does. You need this cock.”

I don’t know anymore. Daniel turns my world upside down. He makes it hard to even start thinking about what I was doing. I thought I was telling him to get fucked, but maybe he’s right. Maybe I was just trying to get fucked myself.

“What did you think was going to happen when I got free?”

“I don’t know,” I sniff. “I was going to figure that out later.”

“That’s your problem, Briar. You’re so smart, but you don’t think, and you don’t plan. You dismiss what you’re told if you don’t want it to be true, and you don’t realize what the consequences of ignoring things are.”

Now he sounds like my father—or, like my father would sound if he didn’t just sigh and ask me how much money I need this month. Held over his lap, my ass burning like hell, I feel like the naughty girl he says I am.

“We’re in danger. I put that rope on to try to protect you from the worst of my lust, but you decided to take advantage of it, so now I’m going to take your ass, just like I promised I would.”

“Daniel,” I whimper. “We don’t have lube.”

“Yes, we do,” he says. “Your cunt is soaking. You’re making enough to start a small lubrication factory.”

He proves it by pushing two fingers into my slit then bringing them out to show me. I see the clear fluid of my desire clinging to his digits right before he pushes them into my mouth, makes me taste myself. Gives me a reminder of what I really am, at my core. There are words to describe women like me. Words that Daniel, even in his most lusty state, would never use. I use them though, in the chamber of my mind, imagining how I must look trapped over his thighs, my ass bright red and crisscrossed with lines from the switch. I’m a dirty little slut for him. I’m everything every girl is told she should never be, and everything she craves to let herself degenerate into.

“I’m going to let you up,” he says. “And you’re going to get ready for me.”

“Wha? How?”

“You’re going to bend over, reach under, and start lubing your ass,” he says. “If you run out of pussy juice, we have oil.”

This is a greater punishment than the whipping was. This is him asking me, without any physical force at play at all, to forfeit the fucking I crave in my pussy, and give him my ass—make it ready for him.