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She squeals in shock and fear as I turn her around and lift her up.
We’re not going far.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wrangle her over my knee and shove her face into the mattress.
“Your disrespect will not be tolerated for one more fucking second,” I growl at her, my fingers digging deep into the back of her skull.
Rage consumes me as I hold her down.
Sophia cries out, but her voice is muffled by the sheets. Grabbing her hair, I pull her face up so that I can hear what she has to say.
“You asshole!” she rasps, her voice thick with a painful mixture of fury and desperate sorrow.
That sliver of guilt that pierced through me earlier grows, but the flames of my rage fight it back.
“You’re right, I am an asshole,” I say. “But I’m also you’re captor, and you’ll do as I say, when I say it. And right now, I’m telling you to stop disrespecting your master.”
“Fuck you!” Sophia spits. Her tender little body squirms against my thighs and my cock. Fucking hell. The arousal is impossible to hide. All of the blood in my body rushes between my legs and my pants threaten to tear apart.
Really, I should push Sophia off of me right now, send her tumbling to the cold floor so that she can’t see or feel what she does to me.
But I can’t bear the thought of letting her go. Even as she struggles to get away, the feeling of her body next to mine is intoxicating. It feels so right… and so devilishly wrong.
So, I lean into my role—as her villain, as her master… as her daddy.
Lifting my hand into the air, I come down hard with an open palm right on the corner of her plump ass cheek.
Her whimper of surprise sucks the air out of the room. For a moment, we both stop. But then she whips her right arm up towards me and I’m forced to grab it before it can smack me in the chin.
“That was the wrong move, princess.”
Pushing her hand back down to her side, I spank her perfect ass again. My cock is rock hard and pushing up into her flat writhing belly, but I don’t care. I’m lost in the lust. I’m lost in her. In her punishment and in her body.
She’s not wearing any panties, and her thin nightgown rides up to just below her ass cheeks. I smack her again.
“Stop!” she yelps, just as I’m about to punish her once more.
To my surprise, I do as she says. My hand freezes in the air, and I can only watch as Sophia’s whole body tenses in preparation for a spank that isn’t coming.
“Have you learned your lesson?” I ask, my eyes wandering up and down her tempting body. She’s no longer fighting, and her long soft legs have gone limp… at least, they have down until the toes, which are curled so tightly that it almost looks painful.
… I wonder if she’s wet…
Suddenly, I remember that glint of attraction I swear I saw in her pretty brown eyes yesterday. I remember how I wished I had checked to see if she was wet when I took her last night.
Her ass is right here. Right in my fucking face. How red are her cheeks? How wet is her pussy?
Deep inside of me, something foreign begs for her to be soaking wet. I desperately want her to be just as turned on by this as I am.
But why? Why do I give a fuck what she thinks? What she feels?
She’s my captive. My enemy. The only use she should serve is to end a war. To get what I want.
Fuck the war. I want her.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” Sophia mumbles, weakly. I can hear the defeat in her voice. It’s almost heartbreaking.
The sliver of guilt is back and bigger than ever.
