Bossed Around

Now I’m going to pay.

I want to pay. Need to.

I need to be taught a lesson. Need to be shown, physically, what my teasing did to him.

The expectancy of what is about to happen has soaked my underwear straight through, my breath is sawing in and out of my lungs. And it’s the fact that I can’t see him, but know he’s coming, that is making my skin tingle wildly everywhere.

I’m around the backside of the gallery now, nowhere else to run—

No, wait, there is the door.

It leads to the basement of the gallery. A place my uncle asked me never to go. But he’s not here any longer and it’s my only option as a hiding place. With a breathy laugh, I throw open the basement door and steal into the darkness. There is a low light up ahead, so I venture toward that, curious, rubbing my arms against the sudden cold.

The closer I get to the light, the more objects start to take shape in the darkness.

Is that…a makeshift bed on the floor?

I’m given no time to register my discovery when the door is thrown open behind me, a large, looming figure blocking out the orange sunset. I can’t see his face. Only his silhouette. But there’s no mistaking it’s Duncan. If his massive frame wasn’t a dead giveaway, the rasps of his breath are in my blood now. I would recognize them in a sandstorm on the other side of the world. They’re mine. Those dogged pants belong to me.

I back away slowly, my hand feeling along the cold, stone wall, my nipples tickling into peaks, heat filtering down into my tummy.

All at once, I’m snatched by eager hands and whirled around, facing the lit room ahead once again, but not seeing it this time. There’s nothing but the man behind me, the question of what is to come. How hard have I earned it? How far did I push him?

I get my answer almost immediately.

My feet are kicked out from beneath me, my knees landing on the stone floor.

I’m bent forward forcefully, my forearms flush to the cold stone, my breath loud and scraping in my ear drums. Heart going a thousand miles an hour.

Duncan grunts and flips up the back of my slip, tearing my panties straight down the middle and cracking his palm across the cheeks of my bottom. The sound of the slap is like a cannon being fired in a hallway and it’s followed by my gratified whimper.

He does it again, spanking me like a bratty child.

Three times. Four. Thrusting his erection into the split of my backside in between smacks. Frenzied pumping. His grunts are strangled, animalistic. And now I’m pulled into a trance, too. This is my doing. I pushed him to this. These are my consequences and I want to feel every bit of them. I want to be punished for being a tease. I want to feel how much I affected him—already, I’m addicted to his tangible proof.

My fingers turn to claws on the stone floor when he spits on me.

The moisture slides down through the split of my buttocks, joining with my natural wetness, drenching me further. The sound of a zipper coming down in the darkness is followed by a guttural sound from Duncan. My hips are yanked back, tilted, positioned—and then he shoves himself home inside of me. Bellowing. Pistoning his hips without missing a beat, his lap glancing off my backside with raunchy slaps of flesh on flesh.

He fucks me like a mating lion.

Purely with the intent to come.

I can feel the agony pouring off of him, hear it in the threadbare rasps of sound he makes, like he’s on the verge of dying.

Duncan drops forward, his heaving chest to my back, licking the entirety of my ear in one filthy lap of his tongue. “Did you fatten up my cock to your liking?” He slams home inside of me, his right hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing. “Does it please your tight little princess cunt, lass? Does it?”

“Yes!”

He’s huge and hard inside of me, leaving nothing untouched. Every drive of his erection to the hilt seems to encounter something new, a sensitive nerve ending that makes my legs flex, turns my flesh slicker, more eager to take him. He’s an animal, but that makes me one, too, doesn’t it? On my knees and elbows, being attacked from behind. Mated. The trunk of his sex tunneling in and out of me with no mercy, his grunts growing more and more desperate.

“Teasing and teasing and teasing,” he growls, choking me, thrusting upward so hard now that my knees leave the floor every other second, his arousal a thick, hungry hook of flesh inside of me. “Teasing!”

“Bad horny giant,” I manage around the manacle of his hand around my throat. “Can’t control yourself. Bad. Bad.”