Sheer Punishment Read online

  SHEER PUNISHMENT

  (Sheer Submission, Part Three)

  Hannah Ford

  Contents

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  SHEER PUNISHMENT

  SHEER PUNISHMENT

  Copyright © 2018 by Hannah Ford

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  SHEER PUNISHMENT

  (SHEER SUBMISSION, PART THREE)

  SHEER PUNISHMENT

  (Sheer Submission, Part Three)

  AVEN

  The overhead lights reflected off the belt in Landon’s hand, making its metal buckle shine. My heart beat fast, my breath catching in my chest as I thought of what that buckle would feel like hitting my skin.

  “Landon.”

  “Get on the bed, Aven,” he growled, repeating his command. He was standing a few feet away from me, his blue eyes hooded and dark. He still wore the shorts he’d been wearing in the pool, and nothing else.

  “No. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.” I pulled the robe I was wearing closer around me, suddenly very aware that underneath it, I was still only wearing the tiny bikini he’d chosen for me. The bathing suit was still wet, the fabric sticking to my skin, and without the robe, everything underneath my bikini would be visible to him. Of course, he’d seen it all before – he’d taken my top off in the pool, had slid his hand down into my bikini bottoms, had kissed and stroked me until I’d orgasmed.

  But that had been different.

  That had been a sexual encounter – of course he’d have seen me naked during something like that.

  This was just a conversation, an attempt by me to get information about what that woman had been talking about when she’d asked Landon about being accused of stalking.

  And yet, something about this encounter was sexual, too – my clit was pulsing between my legs, and my nipples had become tight points under the sheer fabric of my bathing suit.

  “Drop your robe,” Landon said when he saw me adjusting it.

  “No.”

  “You do not want to defy me right now, Ms. Courtland.” His voice was deep, dark, rough.

  I thrust my chin into the air. “Not until you tell me who that woman was.”

  He smiled, and it was halfway between evil and gorgeous, the kind of smile that was ruthless and sexy at the same time.

  He took the belt he was holding and twisted it together, looping it back on itself so that it was loosely folded in half.

  Then he moved toward me. The scent of leather became stronger, along with his cologne, or his soap, or his shampoo, or whatever it was he smelled like, whatever it was that got my pulse racing and my pussy wet.

  “You want to know who that woman was?” he taunted.

  “Yes!” I meant it to come out as a demand, or at least as an exasperated exclamation, but the moment I started speaking, he took the belt and trailed the end of it over the back of my calves.

  The leather was soft, supple, taut.

  I imagined how it would feel if he pulled back and whipped me with it, and my chest tightened and squeezed so hard it felt like I’d skipped a breath.

  “She was a reporter, angel. She’s found a story on me, and she was asking me for a comment.”

  The leather still ran over my skin, up and down my leg, like a promise of something to come.

  “And the story’s about you stalking someone?”

  “Yes.” He stared at me, daring me to say something.

  “Did you do it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters.”

  His blue eyes were locked on mine, storming like a hurricane.

  “What matters right now,” he said, reaching out and flicking open the side of my robe with one quick, smooth movement, “is that I told you not to defy me. It was one of my terms. Do you remember that, Aven?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course you do. And yet you’re doing it anyway.” His eyes were still on mine, and his jaw clenched. He was so powerful, so in control, the heat radiating off of him like an inferno.

  I remembered what he’d said to me earlier, when we were in my apartment - that I might be able to lie to him, but that my body would always tell the truth.

  He was right.

  Whatever he was about to do to me was fucked up. It was depraved. It wasn’t normal to pull out a belt like this, to tell someone that if they defied you there would be punishments.

  But my body didn’t know that.

  I couldn’t explain it, but the place between my legs ached for him. The shame I felt at being here in this skimpy bikini, my robe open, my tits and ass out for him to ogle, the fact that he’d made me wear this bathing suit in the first place just so he could have access to my body, should have disgusted me.

  But it didn’t.

  I wanted him to punish me. Part of it was because it turned me on to think about it. The other part was that I wanted to please him. And the smallest part (or maybe the biggest, if I was being completely honest), wanted him to punish me because I could sense the pain that lurked inside of him, simmering under his stoic façade. I wanted to take it away, the way he’d done for me.

  “Get on the bed, Aven.” His voice was deep, a growl, as he reached out and pulled my robe off, leaving me in just my damp bikini.

  I walked toward the bed. The comforter on top was black silk.

  “On your stomach.”

  I laid down as he instructed and immediately, he grabbed me and yanked me back until my waist was positioned right at the curve of the mattress. The bed was so far off the floor that my legs dangled over the edge.

  Landon reached for a pillow, grabbed it and shoved it under my hips, forcing my ass higher into the air.

  “You’ve been very bad, Ms. Courtland.”

  “Yes, sir.” I grabbed at the comforter, the backs of my eyes stinging with tears. Not because of what he was doing to me – there was no pain, at least not yet – but because of the humiliation that permeated my body, sliding through me like hot lava.

  “You will have to be punished for your disobedience. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I felt the leather strap of his belt moving over the backs of my thighs, then up over the curve of my ass.

  His presence still permeated the room. Even though he was behind me, I could still feel him there, taking over everything, filling the room with his commands.

  He flipped the belt feather-light against my ass, and I clenched my hands, pulling at the fabric of the comforter tightly.

  “This will hurt.” His voice was a warning, laced with excitement.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you nervous, angel?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Really.” He sounded amused, as if I were a little girl who knew nothing about what was about to happen. I remembered how he’d called me pure back in the pool. Then I thought about all of those women he’d been with in the past, all of those beautiful women with their shiny dresses and their perfect hair, their bodies fit and toned from hours with their personal trainers.

  Had they been here?
Tied up? Taking his punishments?

  I might have been “pure”, but there was no way I was going to be scared. I wanted this. And just because I hadn’t had sex before didn’t mean I didn’t know how to give pleasure. Or at least, I could be taught to give it.

  “I’m nervous only because I want to please you.” It was true. I heard him go still behind me, and then his body pressed against mine, heavy and strong as he laid over me. His fingers intertwined with mine and he pulled them down and behind me.

  He held them there, and I heard him reaching into the nightstand. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed my wrists together behind my back.

  I was restrained.

  The bite of the metal against my wrists started the first curls of panic.

  Landon tugged on them, making sure they were tight enough. “You want to please me, angel?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He was standing back up now, and he ran the leather belt down over my spine. “Why?” His voice was a ragged whisper, and for a moment, I had the feeling his walls had come down, that I’d broken through. There was a slight note of vulnerability there. But that was crazy. He couldn’t seriously be doubting why I would want to be with him, would he? He was a gorgeous billionaire.

  “I want to make you forget, sir,” I said.

  He laid his body back down over mine, and I felt the ridges of his abdomen against my fingers.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed into my ear. “Your body is perfect, made for fucking. Are you ready to be fucked, angel?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m ready to be fucked.

  And I was.

  I couldn’t explain it, but my body was primed. I wanted this.

  I wanted him and whatever depraved things came with him.

  “I want you to break me in, “ I said, because I knew he liked it when I was dirty.

  “More.”

  I wriggled on the bed, the curve of the cuffs digging into my skin. I could feel his cock hard against my ass. “I want your hard cock to fuck me, to break my cherry.”

  “Goddamn it, Aven,” he moaned.

  My hands reached for the waistband of his shorts, pulling at them, sliding my hand over the top of his shaft. The feel of him in my hand, so foreign the first time I’d done it in the pool, now felt reassuringly familiar. My body was already remembering the pleasure of those moments, and as soon as his cock hit my hand, my clit pulsed with desire.

  He pushed into me, his cock pushing into my handcuffed palms.

  I gripped him as he thrust his hips into me.

  His hands tangled in my hair, turning my head back toward him as he kissed me, his lips claiming mine, the two of us a tangle of limbs and skin and warmth.

  His kiss was desperate, hungry, and when he pulled back, he pushed my hair to the side and slid a trail of kisses over the back of my neck.

  Then he took my wrists, holding them in the handcuffs as he licked a searing trail down my spine.

  When he was done, he was standing up, and he yanked my wrists, causing my upper body to pull up from the bed.

  My ass pushed even further into the air, and the hard points of my nipples brushed against the silky fabric of the comforter.

  He held me there tightly.

  And then I felt the belt.

  Brushing over my ass again, the leather supple and soft.

  “I’m going to belt you now, angel,” he said. “For defying me. Do you understand?”

  I bit my lip and raised my chin in the air. I’d been hoping to be able to grasp the bed and use that as leverage against the spanking, but now that I was cuffed, with Landon holding my hands behind me, there would be no way.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s going to hurt.” He’d just finished saying the words when the belt whipped against my ass, and I cried out.

  “Oh!”

  “Yes, angel,” he said. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” It did hurt. Another whip of the belt, this time against my other ass cheek.

  Tears blurred my eyes, and my skin turned hot and prickly.

  Again, he belted me.

  Three times.

  Four times.

  Each blow harder, each one sending crimson hot pain shooting through my skin, leaving me raw.

  And yet as soon as the belt was pulled back, as soon as I heard the whoosh through the air as he pulled it off my skin, I wanted it back on me.

  Because every blow, every sharp bite of pain that reigned down on my ass, was morphing into a soft, burning, delicious pleasure.

  Eventually the tears filled my eyes.

  But my cries turned to moans as he continued to belt me, to punish me.

  “Your ass is all red, Ms. Courtland,” he said when he was done. I’d lost count of how many times he’d used the belt on me.

  Now he reached down and rubbed his hand over my ass.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did that make you wet?” His voice was hard now, removed, as if administering the punishment were something he’d had to do instead of something he’d wanted to do.

  “Yes, sir.” I bit my lip as shame filled my body.

  Behind me, he began to pry my thighs apart with his strong hands, and the cool air of the room hit my spread pussy.

  His finger reached out and slid over my opening, inspecting me for arousal.

  “Yes, angel, you are wet. You liked that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What did you like about it, Aven?”

  “The way you punished me.”

  “How did I punish you?”

  “You spanked me with your belt.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He paused, and silence filled the room.

  “I want more,” I said, wiggling around on the bed. I was so wet. I was so primed. My pussy ached where he’d been touching it, my clit pulsing.

  “More what?”

  “More…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted it more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. I remembered how big his cock was, how it felt in my hand. “I want to be fucked.”

  His fingers probed my folds, forking them with his fingers, checking me again to see how wet I was.

  With the other hand, he held the handcuffs, and he yanked them up, pulling me to him so that I was standing up, my back to his chest. At some point, he must have taken his shorts off, because I could feel his naked cock, rock hard against my ass.

  Now it felt even harder and thicker than it had in my hand, and I wondered if it was because of the angle, or because he was more turned on now.

  My pussy ached, remembering his two fingers buried deep inside of me.

  He reached up and untied the strands of my bathing suit, letting my top fall to the floor.

  Then he reached around and hefted my breasts in his hands.

  “You’ll have to beg.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll have to beg me to fuck you. You’ll have to beg me to pop that cherry, to stretch your tight little cunt out until you take me.”

  “Landon – ”

  He rolled my nipples between his index fingers and his thumbs. The pleasure slid through my body, dulling some of the ache from where he’d spanked me.

  His hands slid down my sides, over my ribs, causing me to shiver.

  When he got to the sides of my tiny bathing suit bottoms, he tugged them down until they were right below my ass.

  “Your ass is so red,” he said again. “Branded with my belt.”

  He ran his hand over the marks, and his touch was soothing, his hand strong and warm, yet gentle.

  “Brand me,” I whispered. “Make me yours.”

  His hand slipped in between my legs from my behind, and his index finger pushed into my pussy. “That little cunt is still so tight, angel. What I did to you in the pool didn’t stretch you at all. I’m not sure you’re ready.” His voice was taunting me, teasing me, and I remembered what he’d said. That he was going to make me beg
.

  “Please,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Please fuck me.” But I knew that wasn’t going to be enough. He wanted to teach me to be dirty, wanted to be the man who made me do depraved things. “Please fuck my pussy.”

  He tugged my bottoms down, over my thighs, until they fell to the floor and I stepped out of them.

  Then he took my ass cheeks in his palms, squeezed them gently, and used his thumbs to spread my pussy lips.

  “Your pussy is so perfect.” He knelt down behind me, and then his mouth was on me down there, causing me to gasp.

  My toes curled as his tongue went to work, lapping at my folds, the flat of his tongue making long, sure strokes.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. I rose up to his mouth, but he was holding my ass, his thumbs holding my pussy open so that I could feel my clit popping out from its hood.

  He sucked on it gently.

  “Oh, Landon.” I was panting now, my breath coming in short gasps.

  He pulled away. “You’re not going to come yet, angel,” he said, sounding amused at the way I was responding to him. “When you come, it’s going to be on my cock.”

  He turned me over so I was on my back, and laid me back down on the bed.

  He rose over me as if he were a God, his body strong and perfect. He was so beautiful, so sexy, every inch of him chiseled as if he was a sculpture brought to life by an artist who wasn’t of this world.

  His jaw was strong, the lines of his face elegant and strong at the same time, his eyes the only thing about him that wasn’t dark. I fell into them, the blue pulling me under as he reached behind me and unhooked the cuffs from one of my wrists.

  He guided me gently up to the top of the bed, where he grabbed the other loose handcuff and cuffed me to the headboard, leaving one hand free.

  I was lying on my back now, and he was straddling me.

  He slid down my body, his breath tickling my collarbone, my breasts, my ribcage.

  He spread my legs and began to eat me, his tongue strong and sure, swirling around my clit, French kissing me between my legs while I moaned and breathed his name.