Chapter 119: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Thirty-Five
MICHAEL
Charlotte’s eyes widen, her face turning even whiter. Without a word, she goes through to the bedroom,
undresses and then, trembling, bends over the end of the bed.
“Ass up.”
She shifts position, presenting her pale derriere. Normally, in this position her pussy would be glistening
with her arousal, but not this time.
She’s shaking….
“I didn’t want you thinking this is about James and his sex games. That’s why I refused to let him do
this. I’m the one that is punishing you, and this is the real thing. I hate doing this stuff. You know that.
But I’m doing it now because punishment is something you understand.”
I strip off my jeans, pulling out the belt as I do so, feeling sick. “I need some relief, so I’m going to fuck
you; then I’m going to punish you, and you’re going to ept it. Yes?”
Her face side on to the sheets, she nods, her eyes streaming.
“Michael, you need to…”
“I didn’t ask you to speak. Just to do as you’re told for a fucking change…. Open your legs further.”
She obeys, and I test her pussy. She’s dry, so I find a pot of lube, work her over inside, and myself.
“This is for me, not you, do you understand?”
She nods, silently, again.
She’s crying and right now, I don’t care. I just want to fuck her. And to make her feel the way I did the
I plunge into her and she gasps, her fingers gripping into the bed covers.
Am I hurting her?
But I don’t ask, instead, I bang her hard, trying to fuck away the tension inside me. She makes no
attempt to either stop me or take the ride with me, just lying there while I pump her.
After only a minute or two, my balls tighten with climax and I ram home as I shoot my load into her,
spurting cum and stress into her in equal measure.
As I finish, she tries to rise, but I push her down. “I’ve not finished. I told you. You get punished next.”
“But first I need to…”
I force her back, face down onto the bed, then casting around for something suitable, I spot James’ tie.
“Put this between your teeth.”
White-faced, eyes swollen, she opens her mouth, silently epting the tie, mping it between her
teeth.
“Are you ready?”
Head pressed down, she nods.
I don’t want to draw this out, so I strike at her with the belt, a single blow. She judders, her eyes welling,
but I don’t believe it is the pain that makes her cry. A second stroke, and her eyes squeeze shut. A third
and she whimpers, her breathing turning heavy.
That’s enough. I’ve made my point.
I pull the tie from her mouth. She works her lips, trying to speak.
I lean close over her. “What was that? I couldn’t hear it.”
Through tears, she speaks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Stay there.” I fetch a tube of analgesic from the bathroom, apply it to the welts on her rear.
“What’s that?” she asks, from her prone position.
“Painkiller.”
“What’s the point of doing something like that, and then giving me pain-killers?” Her voice is a whisper.
“I wanted to make a point in a way that you get it. I don’t want you permanently hurt or in pain for too
long.”
As I finish, she slips off the bed and drops to her knees in front of me. Her voice is choked. “Please
don’t leave me….”
“Charlotte. Stand up. I don’t need you to kneel for me.”
She doesn’t move. Sighing, I drop down to sit on the floor beside her. “Charlotte, I love you, and believe
me, I never want to leave you, but you mustn’t make life impossible for me. So long as I have your
promise that you will never do such a thing again, then we’re good. Do I have that promise?”
“Yes.”
“Look at me.”
Her eyes are red, her cheeks wet as she looks up. I wipe her tear-streaked face and kiss her. “It’s
done. Come on, dry your eyes. Want to share a bath with me?”
She nods. “Yes, but I need to shower first.” She vanishes into the shower room, and a momentter,
there is the hiss of running water.
Several minutester, she is still in there. “Charlotte, are you alright?”
Stupid question.
Did I overdo it? Perhaps.
There is no reply, only the sound of water, so I go in to find her with the showerhead directed inwards
between her legs.
“What are you doing?”
“I tried to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen. I couldn’t take my pill thest few days. You should have
used a condom.”
Ah, fuck! Of all the times to risk….
Oh God, what have I done to you, Babe?
I don’t run the bath too warm, so as not to sting her sore ass. As we step into the foam together, she
lies between my legs, her back against my chest so I can hold her in my arms. Her tears have dried,
and she seems a little better.
But I feel lousy.
Guilt?
Her chest heaves….
“What?”
“I thought you would never hurt me like that; that it wasn’t in you.”
“I didn’t like doing it. But what about James? You enjoy it when he does it.”
“I always knew it was in his nature. Right from Day One. And I took it on board when I came back after
that first week.”
“Then? But he’s never hurt you like that, surely? Your first day…”
“Men with wholly sunny dispositions don’t go buying virgins at auction.”
*****
CHARLOTTE
“How are you feeling now?” asks my Master. “Better now that you’ve caught up on some sleep?”
“Mmm, yes. Much better thanks.”
“Come and sit with me.” He holds out a weing arm, inviting me to the couch with him.
I join him, trying not to wince as, stiffly, I sit.
“Charlotte. Is something wrong?”
I bite back against the pain. “I’m fine, Master.”
He watches me. “No, you’re not. What’s the matter?”
What do I say?
“Michael…. punished me….”
He stares at me, his expression unbelieving. “Michael? Punished you? What did he do?”
I don’t know what to say, so I remain silent, trying not to chew my lip.
His faces changes, clouding over. “Stand up. Show me yourself.” Still, I hesitate. “Charlotte! Do as I
say. I want to see.”
I try stagger upright, but my thigh and buttock muscles are bruised and stiff.
My Master stands, helping me up, then lifting my skirt, he pulls away my panties, looking at the raw
welts, He draws a long sigh, his body stiffening. “Michael did that?”
“Yes, I did.”
Michael leans against the door, arms folded. His stance says aggression, but there is something in his
eyes…. Regret? Guilt?
Property of N?)(velDr(a)ma.Org.
“Charlotte and I had rather a long discussion. I think I’ve made my point well enough. How are you
now?” He addresses thest question to me.
I shrug. “It hurts. What do you expect me to say?”
My Master, his expression furious, steps towards Michael. “I thought we’d agreed….”
“Master. Leave it. It’s done.”
The two re at each other, and I know that it’s not done.
*****
We sit together in awkward silence. I try to distract myself from the simmering pain in my butt by
reading, but I have to do it standing.
Of a sudden, there is rumbling, a crashing sound. The building shakes.
My Master looks up and around. “What the hell was that?”
He and Michael look out of the windows and down, straining to see all angles.
I open myptop, jabbing at the keyboard. My Master looks down at me, the question is his eyes. “The
security cameras,” I exin, blushing. I shouldn’t be able to ess them, but….
Mouth pursing in humour, “Forgiven.” he says. “What can you see?”
“Looking now,” I say, clicking through screens and cams. Then I freeze at the scene before me:
Gunfire, explosions, men in masks: “The building’s under attack!”
His eyes widen. “Come on,” he yells to Michael. The two dash from the room, but at thest moment,
Michael turns, jabbing a finger at me. “You stay here. You understand? No excuses. You stay here.
Yes?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“If you try to leave, I’ll know. The cams out in the hall….”
I bite my lip and nod again. He stares at me for a moment, then exits.
Alone in the apartment, I watch with growing horror at what is unfolding on myptop screen. Smoke.
The ricochet of bullets from walls. Bodies lying on the ground, unmoving.
The door bursts open. It’s Beth. “Richard sent me up here. What’s happening?”
“The ground floor is taken I think, but….” I peer at the screen….
Oh, crap.…
“What?”
“The building’s on fire.”