Page 13 of Conquered Pet
“You can’t do this,” I wailed.
“Human, it’s time you learned your place in this world,” he growled, and his palm crashed down on my backside again. This time, the pain was sharper because I knew it was coming.
His palm was relentless, painting up and down my backside with vivid fervor. Over and over again, he slapped the fullest part ofmy bottom and when he descended to the lower curve where my cheek met my thigh, I lost my ability to keep silent. The first cry was quiet, but I was so mortified that he might hear it that I bit down on my lower lip hard enough to hurt.
He attacked my thighs and my mouth opened of its own accord. I pushed at the loveseat with my hands even though I knew that my strength was no match for him.
“Oh! It hurts!” I cried out.
“That’s the point, little one. It’s supposed to,” he declared, and my core spiraled with heat. Nothing seemed to slow the advance of his palm. He met his target again and again. I couldn’t kick or do anything to derail him in the slightest.
“Please! I thought you just wanted to fuck me!” I wailed.
“I plan on it, little one. I’m just going to make sure this pretty ass is bright red before I do,” he chided, and I realized how very far out of my depth I was with him.
“I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” I tried next. Maybe he just wanted an apology, and this was all a ruse to make me say the words.
I just wanted the spanking to end. It hurt and still he showed no signs of stopping.
“You’re not sorry enough, little female,” he answered. His hand spanked me at a furious pace, and I soon became worried that I wouldn’t be able to take that much more. I arched my hips as much as my position might allow and he took advantage of that by spanking just beneath my bottom.
That stung so much more than all the rest.
He went down my thighs after that, edging further than he had before and I lost the ability to form words. I tried to keep my eyes closed. I told myself that this was just something I had to get through. He’d tire himself out eventually.
A particularly hard strike against my mid-thigh made me yelp.
His palm was so broad that it covered far too much of my flesh in every single blow.
Soon, nothing else mattered except his hand. One spank turned into another and another until it all started running together in one endless stream of painful chastisement. It hurt so much that I finally realized that my bottom would give out long before his hand.
Would it ever end? Was he looking to turn my bottom a certain shade of red? Or even purple?
I blinked as my eyes watered. Did he want me to cry? Was that his goal?
Quickly, he readjusted me again and I was far too surprised to do anything at all to try to stop it. He pressed one leg in between mine, and I swallowed anxiously when I realized I could no longer hide my most private places. As if he knew the direction of my thoughts, his palm glided forward, and I struggled the hardest that I ever had before he cupped my pussy in his hand. He would know without a doubt that I was wet now. He clutched my mound more tightly.
I froze at the possessive warning in that single maneuver.
Without a word, he slapped me there too. My mouth opened in shock and a strangled wail escaped me as agony blossomed over the sensitive lips of my pussy.
“Don’t!” I begged.
He didn’t listen.
He started spanking my pussy just as firmly as he’d spanked my ass. I tried to close my thighs. I panicked over his lap, trying to keep quiet and hold back my cries. The sound of him spanking me in such a shameful place was wet, but I had no time to focus on that as the fierce fire of his palm punishing me there took center stage.
“I’m sorry!”
A sob tore free from my lips as the first tear dripped down my cheek. It took only moments, but soon after that, I was crying in earnest and the spanking still didn’t stop.
I cried as he continued, but there was no longer the tension of resistance rippling through me. His palm alone had subdued me.
He peppered my backside with hard slaps.
He struck my thighs several more times. Then he smoothed his palm over my scalded backside. He did that over and over as I tried to get a hold of myself. I sniffled, not bothering to wipe my tears off my cheeks. I glanced down, noticing that there were several wet pools of them beneath me on the fabric of the loveseat.
One of his hands glided over my lower back, circling gently and I took comfort in that temperate touch. I don’t know why. I knew I should hate him.
