Xtreme Read Free Page B

came back into the room, she was glad she hadn’t dared to disobey…in his hands was camera, which held even more promise than further corrective spanking.
    â€œGood little one,” he said approvingly. “Staying still for me, with your gorgeous culo upturned in the air. Are you wet for me yet, I wonder?”
    â€œYes…Sir,” Chelsea said, watching him from under her lowered lashes, out of the corner of her eye. She could see his cock bulging against his pants, its gorgeous, huge outline only inches away. Close enough to touch, if she was given permission.
    If she was given an order.
    She shivered at the thought, but Ricardo had other ideas. He pressed buttons on the camera, then set it down on the sink in front of Chelsea so that she could stare at the screen, which was dark.
    â€œYou remember the night I first spilled my seed inside you,” he said gravely.
    Chelsea caught her breath. “Yes.”
    â€œAnd you remember what we did before.”
    This time it was more of a moan. “Yes…”
    â€œTell me.”
    â€œYou—you tied my hands to the bed. Then you tied my legs so that I couldn’t move. You bent my knees and wrapped the ropes around them.” Her cunt spasmed at the memory, a shudder of anticipation. He had tied her legs to keep them immobile, but not together. Then he had spread them, giving him access between them. Later, he had done other things…and she had been helpless to move, to do anything except arch her back and cry out.
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œYou—you had a wand. A cane.”
    â€œI did.” He nodded approvingly.
    â€œYou used it on me. Oh, God.” The thin polycarbonate wand had telescoped out to the length of his forearm. The tip was narrow and flexible, and as he demonstrated, striking his palm, it had made a small whistling sound. “You turned me over and you used it on my, my bottom…”
    â€œYou were very provocative, I recall,” he said. “Were you not?”
    Something had come over her that day. Each lash of the cane had been intense, focused, unlike a blow from his hand. The pain had been exquisite, almost unbearable, and yet each time he questioned if she’d had enough, she’d taunted him by telling him it didn’t hurt. She’d wanted more. She’d needed more. “I…” She licked her lips, remembering the crisscrossing lashes that sped up as they came harder.
    It was after that that he had finally taken her, entered her, fucked her until he came inside her. He had waited, he told her later, until he was sure. Until he knew they could not be without each other. It had taken many nights of dizzying pleasure for him to finally give in, and when he did, there was no doubt of the meaning of the act.
    â€œ What we have done cannot be undone ,” he had said, when it was over.
    The memory drove her wild with need. “I provoked you,” she said. “Yes. I was…bad.”
    â€œYou were a bad girl?”
    He wasn’t touching her at all, using only his voice to tease her, to arouse her.
    â€œI was,” she whimpered.
    â€œA little slut? My own little, needy whore?”
    â€œI was,” she gasped. “I’m yours.”
    â€œYes, you are.” He touched a button on the camera and the screen came to life.
    There was an image of her from that night, the ropes binding her wrists to the headboard, red marks on her flesh where she had strained against her bindings. The ropes around her legs were visible, the intricate knotting digging into the smooth skin of her thighs.
    And on her ass were two red crossed lines. Evidence of the first two blows with the cane, the shock of the new sensation.
    â€œYou remember?”
    â€œI didn’t know you were taking pictures,” she said. “Not then. Earlier…”
    â€œEarlier, when you were flat on your back, begging for it like the pretty little putita that you are?