Arcadia Resurgence by Vague Vermillion (e books free to read txt) 📖

wall for all those hours-if you could take away the sick, leaden feel that still lingered in my belly, the shame of being a Bad Girl in a way that wasn't sexual, sensual, playing games.

I don't like being a for real Bad Girl, not to my One.

What we had, what we did, how it was-it only happened right there, in that corner. It was a "special" kind of sex. It was Bad Girl sex.

I'd squirm my way off his lap, to kneel between his sprawled wide thighs, dressed just in tiny, pretty silken panties and a tank top,or a chopped up, sexily mutilated T, and look up at him,always dressed so impeccably compared to myself and whisper softly, shyly...begging.

"Yes please."

Turned me on so badly...he always did but looking at him, while I kneeled between his wide spread thighs, gods! He looked every inch the arrogant, confident, successful male and Master that he was, and I knew...I knew that I looked like a pretty little toy made to be used, just a sweet mouthed,owned, fuckable bitch.

He was every woman's dream-and it was me who had made that luscious cock hard. It was me that his hot, hungry, aroused eyes were glued to. It was me he wanted. His Bad Girl.

He'd let me eat him up with my eyes for a little while...sometimes just a second or two when he really, really wanted my mouth swallowing his hard cock, my fingers flowing over his silken shaft and swelling balls, then he'd growl under his breath and roughly yank his zipper down, not caring if it broke, or tore the fabric of his fine trousers, to release his cock and balls, and his hand would grab me behind the neck, hard, almost hurting...

"Suck me off, you beautiful little bitch-and if you spill even one drop, you're going right back in that fucking corner!"

He'd pull me down, taking ME, even as I opened my mouth, eager to swallow his swollen, weeping wet shaft deep into my convulsing throat.

He's big, my One, not porn star hung, but big enough that I can't really take him all the way. Except when we're in that corner. Because then he just takes me; he pushes his hips up, and pushes down on the back of my head, and I swallow desperately, fighting against the gag reflex to take him in so deep that my nose is nestled against the smooth skin of his lower belly, and I can flick my nimble tongue out and lick his balls.

When we're in that corner, he fucks ME. I'm good at giving him oral pleasure. I'm very good at it. I know how he likes to be sucked, how he likes to be licked. I know just what to do with my hands, and how he likes his balls caressed. I know that he loves the way I glide the long nailed fingers of one hand over his belly and hip, while the other strokes his shaft and plays teasingly with his scrotum.

But in that corner...it's all about his taking; taking me, my mouth, my throat, just using me, and I love it.

He always finishes quickly. He explained it to me once, deeply sated.

"I make you take your punishment half naked because you're so damn clever about unconsciously trying to move, when you're in the corner. I know you're not doing it intentionally-hell kalli girl I doubt you even know you're doing it, and if you weren't half naked, I wouldn't know either...but watching you tense and release that beautiful ass makes me hard enough to fuck a steel wall."

"Damn it girl, I asked you a question!"

I jolted free of my musing, and my eyes flew up to his, startled, shamed-and aroused.

"You put up with so much Sir. I know how much trouble I must be to you. I know how fucked up I am and you deserve better then someone like me..."

A soft snarl stopped my words cold.

"I see. So you are presuming to suggest that you know better then me what I want, what I am looking for or what I need in a submissive? Is that what you're saying?"

How was it that I kept digging myself in deeper and deeper? I hadn't thought it was possible for things to get worse-should have known I'd find a way.

"Oh no Sir, I'd never, I didn't mean..."

He cut me off with a sharp, slashing motion.

"Let's just try and keep this simple. You say you didn't lie out of fear, I'm willing to entertain the idea that you might be telling the truth there. Six months ago you were bloody well chucking phones and books and fuck all what else at my head-safe to assume you're not intimidated by me."

I felt he was being a little unfair there. I'd never thrown anything even close to his head! But once again, not a good time to lodge a complaint. As far as being intimidated by him though...

"You intimidate the heck out of me when you're mad at me! I'm just not scared cuz you'd never for real hurt me you du...."

Awk! I slapped both hands over my mouth so hard I nearly knocked myself unconscious. But at least I didn't call him the Polish word for dumb ass that he'd inadvertently taught me months ago.

We stared at each other from the twelve feet that still separated-and I fought to keep the welling up tears from spilling down my cheeks.

"Fuck..." He sighed, looking drawn and exhausted. "Kalli girl-just tell me. Why did you lie about it...and when you knew I KNEW, just...why?"

"You...you weren't gonna be mad." I whimpered hoarsely. "I could see it...the anger dying when you understood why I wasn't in bed for you to wake up to. It was gonna be OK that I wasn't in bed cuz I was trying to do something big and bad and scary that I'd promised you I'd do...but I didn't do it and I didn't want you disappointed and I knew it was stupid but that's why I lied and then I couldn't take it backkkkkk!" I wailed, collapsing into a hysterical, violently crying heap.

I dragged the comfort of my flannel sheet up and over my head, knowing how ridiculous I was being. If this was my last "hurrah" I was doing a shit job of it. On top of every thing else, I was regressing back to using words like gonna and cuz. He hated it when I talked like that, all fourteen and white trash Cali Valley girl. We'd both hated the months it had taken him to break me of that habit.

Every time I'd used wanna or gonna or cuz...even just OK, he'd immediately stop me.

"Wanna? I think you mean to say want to." He'd correct.

It got so bad I even started saying "you know" again after every sentence. My mom had hated that one. For a year back in junior high I hadn't said more then yes or no around her. Not talking meant one less thing for her to attack me about.

I DID hate being corrected by him every 2 minutes, but I knew I talked trailer trash, and I hated that more. I'm not stupid, I'd just fallen into the lazy habit of talking like the people I'd grown up around.

I pulled my sheet tighter around me and fought to choke my sobs back. I wanted to be able to leave with some dignity when he told me to get out of his house and life.

But he didn't say anything. I didn't hear him move or even breathe. Hell the only reason I knew he was even still in the house was because I hadn't heard any doors open.

I whimpered softly...now what? I was starting to feel beyond stupid huddled under my "blanky". But I just couldn't bring myself to...

"Get rid of that fucking sheet!" He roared.

I eeped and fought free of the clinging material. Flinging it behind me and staring up at Sir, who was standing, towering and glowering, a mere foot in front of me.

"I'm sorry S..."

"I didn't give you permission to speak."

I bit my lip and lowered my eyes...and he dropped to his knees in front of me, still towering and intimidating. I'm not little-but Sir is tall.

 

His hand flashed out and tangled in the hairs at the back of my neck, jerking harshly to raise my head.

"You will give me your eyes girl!"

I didn't attempt to speak this time, not with my voice. But I tried to let my eyes tell him what I didn't have permission to say.

"I'm not going to let you go kalli girl. I understand why you lied, why you didn't take it back when you knew I KNEW, that you'd lied. I get it kitten. I don't expect it to always be easy between us and I allow things...because of your past. Gods girl, to hear you say that you're not afraid of me makes me want to forgive you everything, sweep it under and pretend it never happened...to just give you a one off, get out of jail free card. But I can't. You lied to me, and that is something I can not just pretend never happened. You admit that you didn't lie out of fear; that you knew I wouldn't hurt you...I have to punish you for the lie."

He kissed me on the forehead, and lowered his face to mine.

"I know I shouldn't admit to this kitten, but I'm at a loss. I don't know how to punish you. I feel like we've taken such a huge step forward and I don't want to lose that, but...you have to be punished."

It was going to be all right. At least, we could get back to everything being all right. He didn't want to lose me and he wasn't going to send me away. All my flaws and fuck ups and self perceived failings-he still wanted me.

And suddenly...even though it was not my right, not my place, I thought, maybe, because it is a submissive's role to serve her Sir, perhaps I can suggest...

"Sir, may I speak?"

He kissed my temple, softly, and sighed.

"You may."

"May this girl suggest a punishment she thinks would be well deserved?"

He pulled away from me to stare down into my eyes. And he sensed, I think, something monumental from his fragile, fucked up, trying to heal kalli girl.

"Suggest..." He rasped.

I was so scared to put my thoughts to spoken words. Not scared of HIM...not scared of what I was going to "suggest" he do to his lying girl...just scared I'd do it, say it all wrong.

"This girl should be tied up...and punished with Sir's whip or cane or flogger."

He wasn't touching me with his body...but so close that I could feel the heat of his cock stirring, thickening with fierce desire.

"You have never been punished that severely." He murmured. I don't think he was even aware how white knuckled the hand twined in my hair had become.

"This girl has never lied to her One before." I whispered, voice trembling. "The punishment should suit the crime."

I knew that he had always wanted to do more to me then he did...but because of my past, because I had been so afraid, he had held back. Because of my fear, and my weakness-there had been so much he couldn't have or take.

"I think you should be flogged, little one." He purred. "But that sweet, tender little cunt...it will sting."

"The punishment should suit the crime." I repeated...and then, more terrified then ever before-because it had been tried on me, and only my screams had saved me, but...I knew with him it would be an act of pleasure and pleasing, and I wanted him to be that one, to turn the memories of panic, to passion.

"Sir? This girl..." I swallowed, almost choking on shyness. "This girl begs of you...when she has been punished properly...she begs to offer you, her last innocence."

"Gods!" He groaned. "Are you offering me what I think you are girl?"

I froze...he had trained me so well, teaching me