I was smart enough to know, well, to kind of know, to understand, in a way, what Trask was doing, I mean, the way he was talking to me, with this strange mixture of taunting insults, purring admiration, and dark, absurdly shocking promises.

He was... playing a role. I mean, when he called me a slut it wasn't because he didn't like me, or that he wanted to insult me. He was doing it because he thought it turned me on. And damn it, it did! It turned me on even more to call myself a slut, the way he'd made me do, in front of him!

I had never had this sort of experience before with a guy. All the men I had dated, all my previous lovers, not that there'd been a ton of them, had been younger and much more - well, simple. They wanted to kiss me, to touch me, to have sex with me. And that was pretty much it. I mean, as far as sex went.

Trask wanted to mind fuck me! And it was working!

He'd promised that I'd scream with pleasure, and here on this beautiful balcony, overlooking the Pacific, I had done just that. Fortunately into a gag, so no one else heard, but even so, my throat ached from the cries of pleasure he had forced upon me!

I was only nineteen, but had thought I'd known what sex was. Trask had shown me that I'd had only a cursory introduction to the subject. He considered himself, not the least bit modestly, as an expert, and had told me so. Arrogant, he was, but truthful too. I had never even thought of the stuff he had come up with!

Maybe he was just more perverted than me.

But I was catching up! I was letting him pretend he was bossing me around, and letting myself pretend I was, like, some kind of sex slave for him. And that was wicked hot and exciting! He said outrageous things, and made me say outrageous things.

Yes, some of it was embarrassing, and, I guess, degrading, but the dark pleasure he was introducing into my life was more than worth it!

Now he finally pulled me inside. He untied the ropes, though the leather bands were still around my wrists and ankles.

And my throat.

He yanked me roughly through the door as I stumbled drunkenly, still dazed from the last orgasm, he'd given me, turned me around so sharply I felt dizzy, and then shoved me, belly down, across a table, well, across a chair which was pushed in against the table.

I groaned dazedly, breasts pillowed out below me, the back of the chair digging into my abdomen, my hair spilling down across my face, and then - .

Crack!

"Ahh!" I cried at the sudden stinging pain which struck my bottom.

I half twisted around, grabbing for my bottom, and half rose, only to have his big hand grip the back of my neck and shove me roughly down again, crushing my breasts against the table.

Crack!

He had a belt, his belt, doubled up, in his other hand! I was startled, unnerved...

"Ow! Don't!"

Crack!

"Oww! Please!" I cried.

The belt hurt!

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The belt snapped down across my upraised bottom again and again, and for all my squirming and pleading there wasn't a thing I could do about it! His hand was like iron, and his arm was even stronger. He pinned me easily, and all I could do was wriggle and thrash and cry out as the belt cut down across my bottom!

It stung a lot! Every blow delivered a sharp blast of pain into the soft flesh of my bottom, and left a line of heat behind. The lines joined and melded until my entire bottom was burning! The dazedness of the orgasm had been swept away and my mind was now kind of panicking as I tried to cope with the stinging, burning pain!